Just in Passing
by Krosis
Summary: "Good lu-" Her entire body jerked forward, a long slimy appendage wrapping securely around her feet. With one firm pull, Zoey was yanked from the suspended catwalk. Ellis ran forward, slipping his arms around her body. He lifted her from the ground and began to run across the bridge. - "We're headed further South – New Orleans! We will meet you there!" - ON HOLD (sorta)
1. The Passing

Set at the end of the passing, Zoey is separated from Francis and an injured Louis while helping another group of survivors. Once separated Zoey desperately tries to get back to her friends.

**Edit 1: Changed to tie in with Valve's L4D comic  
Edit 2: 11/8/12 – Started to read through it, decided that I didn't like it much. Rewrite in progress.**

**Warning:**___I absolutely fail and writing action, romance and suspense – you will see the proof of this while reading…_

_**xXxX**_

Ellis was exhausted. After the drawn out events of the evening he wanted nothing more than to find a safe house and rest. The maze-like set up of the city left him mentally tired, the flights of stairs that he had had to climb and reclimb made him physically worn down. He wanted to find a way across the bridge, be reunited with his _beautiful_ car and get the hell out of Dodge. Coach led the foursome up a flight of steps with hesitant optimism, telling them that this would be the last of it. The biker loomed on the catwalk above them, tattooed arms crossed and resting on the railing that circled the towering structure that he guarded. When he took note of a second person standing on the walkway above them a jolt of excitement shot through him and with it a wave of energy that boost his heart rate and removed the foggy exhaustion from his mind.

He silently added her to the list. _Safe house. Car. Girl._

While the biker glowered at the foursome, the girl had an easy but polite smile but she held a large pistol in her hand. Her posture was similar of that of the biker, leaning over the railing in order to peer down at the ground-dwelling survivors. Ellis took the time to take her in, her posture and body type, the other pistol on her hip and the rifle on her back. It was only when his eyes lingered to her shoes did he notice the dark skinned man in button up shirt and tie, who offered a wave to the group.

"So here's the deal," The biker said. "It was a pain in the ass getting the bridge lifted in the first place. And I don't really feel like lowering the bridge and-"

"Hey man," the seated business man started, passing the biker a quick frown. His ankle appeared to be heavily wrapped and a crutch was resting on the grating beside him. "If you don't want to help them out that's fine – but me and Zoe already decided."

"Fuck that!" The biker yelled, shaking his head. "You can try, gimpy but I doubt that you're going to do a lot of good and Zoey is-"

Coach cleared his throat, "We really appreciate the help!"

"At least someone around here has some sense," Ellis turned his head just enough to see that Nick was standing beside him, holding his shotgun with both hands. It was clear from the beginning that Nick disliked the biker. Sure, the Conman called everyone names at some point but Nick had made it a point to state how much he disliked the man in the midst of all the zombie killing.

"That's one hell of a car that you got down there!" The woman called, then reached out and hit the biker's shoulder. "I _told _you that we could wire a car."

Ellis fought the smile that made his lips twitch. "Ooh, man I think I'm in love." He reached out and shook Nick's shoulder, knowing that the conman disliked any friendly touching from anyone. Nick visibly grimaced, shaking Ellis' hands from his shoulder. The woman looked like some sort of zombie apocalypse angel, all weapons and sharp eyes and gun power. It was a mere perk that she happened to like his car. "That's, uh… That's Jimmy Gibbs Junior's car!" He called out, adjusting his hat.

"Yeah, I know whose it is."

Rochelle cleared her throat, taking a small step forward. "So are you guys going to lower the bridge?"

"That's just the problem," The business man stated. "We used all of the gas in the generator to raise the bridge. There is probably some gas cans around that you can use to fill it. Since the main source of power was cut, the only source of power is the generator and it… "

"It sucks ass," The biker interrupted. "Fill the generator, and I _guess _we will take it from there."

Coach gave a nod. "Alright, well let's-"

"Wait, what are your names?"

"Holy shit Zoey, what does it matter?"

"Bite me, Francis," She hissed.

"Well, little lady… I'm Coach, this is Rochelle, Nick and-"

"Ellis! My name is Ellis!"

"Alright well… As soon as that bridge lowers, you all need to get the hell out of here."

**XxXX**

Coach stopped near the generator, sighing softly as he glanced around the surrounding area. It was clear what he was thinking: It was a pointless cause. They had to find enough cans of fuel to fill up a generator, and with all of the dark corners and dark buildings it was going to be impossible to get out of this mess without running into some sort of infected. Ellis opened the generator's gas tank and peered inside. "It's gonna take a few gallons to fill 'er up…"

"Alright guys, let's get moving then," Rochelle instructed, checking her rifle.

Moving in a tight group, weapons aiming and swiveling in all directions, the survivors set out to search for the much needed gas. There was a long stretch of cautionary silence until they found their first gas can that was tucked in the corner of an abandoned home.

"So Ellis, you like the girl, huh?" Nick teased as they maneuvered their way across the street, Coach lagging behind for a few moments to check if there was another gas can hidden along the side of the home. The man wasn't always very friendly but when he was, he was usually teasing or being a dickhead anyway. All the same, it was best to roll with the punches.

"You kiddin' me? I'm thinkin' that yer gonna hafta lend me that suit 'cause _I _am gonna marry that girl."

"Just be yourself sweetie," Rochelle chuckled as another gas can was plucked from its hiding place. Talking, even in loud whispers, helped make the time pass a little more quickly as it lessened the stress-filled quiet they had started with.

Nick snorted. "Like hell! You need to be the anti-you." Just like that, Nick's friendliness was gone faster than it had appeared. They returned to the generator with the two gas cans in hand. Ellis opened the first and began pouring the liquid into its designated tank.

"Alright, here goes number two…" The gas gurgled from the canister, sending a familiar tangy scent into the air.

And then hell broke loose.

The collected screams of the infected rose into the air and took away all comforting sounds of the surrounding silence. Within moments, the place would be literally crawling with infected and they still had a number of gas cans to find until the generator was full. "Let's pick it up, ya'll!"

Rapid gun fire echoed from above them, and Nick was the first to point out that their friends from the bridge were standing on a catwalk above them, firing off into the darkness. "They're coming up on your six!" The biker bellowed, lifting the rifle and firing off a couple of rounds.

"Yo Ellis," Nick said on a gasp of air, his shoulders rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. "Check out your girlfriend."

As the group scattered (something that just sort of happened, despite how bad of an idea that it really was), Ellis shot a glance up at the cat walk the three other survivors stood on. He saw the biker – _Francis? – _watching over Rochelle and Coach, the business man launching the occasional pipe bomb into the fray, and Zoey training her rifle on him and Nick. With a quick flick of moment, she would swivel her hips, fire and then swivel again as she looked for her next target. When she went to reload it was quick and easy until the magazines were spent, and then she was slipping individual bullets into the chamber and firing.

"Man, oh man, I think I am in _love!_"

The second woman that he had seen since the beginning of this shit-mess began and she was considered his type within minutes. This _had _to be some sort of divine intervention, the chances that he would meet such a lady. Now he just to survive the apocalypse, hope she did the same and then hope to all that was holy that he would see her again. As he slipped into a dilapidated diner he weighed his chances of living through this mess and then he weighed hers.

"_Got one, got two!" _It was Francis, shouting over the din created by the zombies.

"_Eyes on three, missing four – inside the diner!"_ Zoey, shouting just as loudly.

Ellis hobbled out of the diner not a moment later, clutching two gas cans as he ran down the road. The overall weight made sure that he wouldn't be able to draw his gun unless he dropped both canisters of gas and in doing so, he would be chancing spilling some. For a moment he took it all in, zombies exploding, brain matter and blood, entrails spread along the road, the walls. It was a mess of gore and noise and they were smack dab in the middle of it.

"_Eyes on four!"_ Zoey shouted as she took aim and worked on clearing Ellis' path to the generator.

"Get it off of me!" Ellis' head whipped to the side when he heard the woman scream. He saw Rochelle being guided down the street, dropping a gas can as a Jockey straddled her neck, grabbing onto her face, her hair, her ears and steering her off towards more oncoming infected. He ran the rest of the way to the generator, feeling the gasoline slosh out and onto his arms and chest. When he dropped the gas tanks he lifted his gun. Sucking in air through his teeth, he tasted the gas' scent, the sharp tang that tickled his nose and made his mouth water. Rochelle and the offending Jockey were too far away, the zombie crouched far too low over Ro's head to get a clean shot.

Ellis took the beginning steps of a run to reach his friend but the sudden sound of beeping made his steps falter. His head whipped to the side, searching for the source and he caught the sight of all of the infected in the area doing the same. Heads whipped from one side to the other, whirling to pin point that shrill sound, white glossy eyes zeroing in on the source. With a collective scream they charged, infected that had been swarming Nick and Coach whirling to chase the noise. The sound distracted the zombies, parting the sea of gore and offering a clear path to Rochelle.

"Hold on, Rochelle!"

"Fill up the tanks, kid!" Francis yelled. "We got her!"

Again, Ellis faltered, watching as both Zoey and Francis took aim. He wasn't sure if he was comfortable with the idea of both of them trying to get the kill shot while the businessman continued to lob the occasional pipe bomb into the fray. It took only a moment for the shot to be made and it was Francis that took it. In that moment of brief examination, Ellis could tell just how long these people had been together, how tight of a group that they were. The second that the shot was made, Zoey whirled off elsewhere and though he couldn't hear them, their lips were moving. They were constantly talking, spouting off directions and keeping each other in tune to what the other was doing.

As soon as the Jockey was killed, Rochelle crumbled to the ground, her face and neck a mess of blood and dirt. She tried to clean off her face, using the back of her hands and her arms to wipe the mess away though it seemed to be no use. Coach came jogging into view, making his way down the road in order to aid the woman as an explosion rocked the street. Once Coach retrieved Rochelle, he turned his attention back to the generator where Nick was busily working. He held a full fuel tank in his hands, pouring the contents into the generator as four more sat at his feet. The sound of the gas taking up the remaining space let the two men know that the generator was all… most…

Once the generator overflowed, both Nick and Ellis worked to get it started, flipping the starter switches and yanking the chord and the small engine started. The sound was welcoming but it would also lure a whole new wave of infected that would be more than happy to destroy whatever caused it.

"Alright ya'll! We're ready to go!" Ellis shouted.

"Louis! Lower it!"

The bridge began to lower and with the audible creaking and groaning of the apparatus the dinner bell sounded. The ground began to thrum with heavy footfalls, an absolutely enraged yell that made Ellis' stomach coil into a tight knot

"Run, run, run! We got it!" Zoey yelled, and gestured towards the bridge. "Get to the car!"

Nick ran ahead to get to the bridge as Coach did his best to assist Rochelle who was still a bit dazed from her Jockey attack. Ellis, meanwhile, brought up the rear, slowing as he neared Francis and Zoey and peering up at the two with a smile.

"H-hey! I just wanted to say thanks!"

"Get outta here, kid!" the biker ordered as he lobbed a Molotov into the Tank's path. Zoey was shooting at the infected that were beginning to swarm the bridge, her eyes only briefly flickering to him as she reached for another gun.

"Good lu-" Her entire body jerked forward, a long slimy appendage wrapping securely around her feet. With one firm pull, Zoey was yanked from the suspended catwalk. She barely had time to scream as she dropped to the ground, feet first though it didn't prevent the girl from hitting her head with a good amount of force. Ellis' entire body flinched as she fell, he wasn't able to catch her but he was by her side in a second. The girl was curling into a tightly coiled fetal position, arms wrapped around her head and eyes squeezing shut. The sound of gunfire preceded the Smoker's appendage going slack.

"Zoey! Holy shit… Zoey!"

"Ffff..." she whimpered softly. "Oh fuck…Aaaahaaa! Ow, ow, ow!"

The Tank was getting closer, the young woman would be left here and help would be too late. In that moment, Ellis had the choice to leave Zoey to die, or to save her life. He took the roll of hero, slipping his arms around her body. He easily lifted her from the ground, taking note that there was a pistol still at her hip and another that was near where she fell. With careful movements, he grabbed the abandoned weapon and stood, Zoey falling limp in his arms.

"Zoey! Shit, wait… Let me get her!" Francis looked around, seemingly lost as he tried to figure out what he could possibly do in order to get the college student back onto the bridge.

"Ellis! Come on!"

"_Ellis!"_

"Alright man, I gotta take her… We will take good care of her!" Ellis began to run across the bridge, blood sliding down Zoey's forehead and flowing down to the tip of her nose, her head leaning forward, bobbing to and fro as Ellis ran.

"Don't run off with her you damn hillbilly!"

"We're headed further South – New Orleans! We will meet you there!"

Ellis continued to run until he neared the car. He opened the driver's side door and slid in, Zoey in his lap. He half expected her to crawl into the back but she didn't move. Coach and Rochelle reached out from the back seat and pulled her further into the car, allowing Ellis to close the door.

"She's out," Coach informed him as the engine kicked to life.

"What was up with that, Ellis? Did you really have to kidnap her?" Nick asked from the passenger seat as he glanced back at the girl. Coach was holding onto her shoulders, keeping her in an upright position while Rochelle checked her over for injuries despite her own grim scenario.

"She's got a pretty good cut on the top of her head, Ellis."

"Then I saved her life," Ellis slapped his hand onto the wheel, a large and boyish smile stretching over his features. "_I saved her life_!" He hit the gas and cruised over the bridge as more infected began to litter the streets, the flaming Tank making chase.

"Easy there Ellis," Coach said from the back, and Ellis glanced in the mirror to look at the man. Both he and Rochelle were holding the girl upright, trying to let the girl rest as they drove towards their destination. "You may have saved her… But we still have to make it through all of this."

Ellis watched Zoey in the rear view mirror and smiled, nodding his head. "Oh we will. Don't you worry about that none."

**xXxX**

After only a few hours of driving, Ellis and Nick both decided to pull over for the remainder of the night at an abandoned gas station. They left Coach with the two sleeping – or unconscious – females in the back seat of the race car as they checked the gas station for any lingering infected. Nick looked around the confines of the gas station half-heartedly, toying with the safety of his shotgun. "Looks like the place hasn't been touched," he said, referring to the still stocked shelves.

"Yeah, we otta take a few things when we leave in the mornin'." Ellis was already piling a few first aid kits onto the front counter. He took another glance around the empty store, his eyes drifting over the barred windows, the back storage room door, the bathroom…

"Trying to figure out the best place to get her alone?"

"Eh?"

"Gonna start repopulating?" Nick raised his eyebrows in a devious manner.

For a moment, Ellis smirked. The corner of the right side of his mouth lifted as he crossed his arms. "Maybe a li'l further down the road, bud. After all, we ain't even married yet."

He moved to the door, glancing back at Nick as he gestured to his suit. "And I meant it about that suit, man."

Nick snorted as he stepped past the mechanic, making his way to the car. "We'll see."

He stood by the door and helped Rochelle from the backseat as the woman held her palm over her eye. She had fallen asleep with the injury practically shoved against the back window and by the looks of things, the scratches had reopened, leaving small bits of blood to slip over her cheeks. As she took Nick's hand and crawled out of the car she gave him a small, tired smile. "Thanks Suit."

"C'mon," he replied as he gestured to the convenient store. "Let's go get you cleaned up."

Ellis stepped up next to the car, watching as Coach gently shook the young woman next to him. Slowly, she began to stir, her eyes fluttering open.

"Francis?"

"No baby girl, he's not here."

"Lou…Louis?"

"Sorry," Coach made a small gesture to the door where Ellis was waiting. "Crawl on that way and we will get you fixed up."

Nodding, Zoey began to crawl out of the back seat, allowing Ellis to reach out and take both of her hands to help her out of the vehicle. As her feet touched the ground her legs shook and threatened to give out from under her while her head began to spin. Ellis almost began to smile as Zoey relied on him to gain her footing. "Y'think yer gonna be able to walk?"

Looking slightly dazed, Zoey began to nod her head. "Yeah… I'm fine."

He carefully escorted the woman into the convenient store, his arm wrapped comfortably around her trim waist. "Yer head took a good hit when you fell," Ellis stated. "I'll take a look at it, and then we can get you cleaned up."

Zoey took a soft breath, her head lulling forward and to the side. "You could have left me there."

"Your buddy wouldn't have got to ya in time."

After getting the college student inside he guided her back against the front counter, placing both hands on her hips he easily lifted her from the ground and set her on its surface next to Rochelle. Coach came into the store last, holding whatever guns were left in the vehicle.

"Did you lock 'er up?"

"Yes, Ellis. I locked the damn car."

Coach set the weapons on the far end of the counter top, then returned to the door to make sure it was securely locked. Ellis tore into one of the first aid kits, looking for the necessary supplies to clean up the injury on the back of Zoey's head. Nick stood beside him, holding out a wet compress out to Rochelle. "Hold this over your eye for a couple of minutes," he instructed.

The woman did as she was told, placing her palm over her eye, she glanced at Zoey and smiled. There was still a number of scratches on the visible side of her face though it wasn't as bad as anything that was now hidden beneath the compress. "How's your head, honey?"

Zoey shrugged her shoulders. "Could be worse." Her voice was hoarse and she still seemed to be a bit dazed. "Your eye-"

"No, no… Just got a bit of blood in it. The little bastard cut a good bit of my forehead is all." Rochelle smiled, lowering the compress to allow Nick to start cleaning the laceration. Sure enough, her eye was still intact, a little blood shot but otherwise fine. Her forehead and cheeks were cut up, the deeper cuts spread over her forehead.

"Looked like he ripped out your eye out when I saw it earlier." Zoey admitted, frowning before closing her eyes tightly. Her head was throbbing and she felt a bit dizzy, eyes occasionally feeling fuzzy.

Ellis cleared his throat, calling Zoey's attention back to him. "I'm gonna clean this up for you," he informed her as he made his way around the counter to stand behind her. The blood had matted her hair over the wound – something that he hadn't really thought of – and prevented him from being able to clean the area.

"Hey Coach, what's dinner lookin' like?" Rochelle asked.

While Nick and Ellis had decided to see to the women's wounds the burly man had taken it upon himself to look around the convenient store in search of a suitable meal. There was a low chuckle from within the rows of gas station food, and then the man answered.

"Well I definitely know what we're havin' for dessert!"

Walking back to the front of the front of the counter to stand next to Zoey, Ellis offered his hand. "Zoey, yer gonna hafta go to the bathroom and wet your hair down. The blood kinda matted yer hair..." She nodded, taking his hand and sliding off of the counter. This time, she was able to find her footing so that she was able to walk herself to the bathroom, removing the pink hoodie as the door closed behind her.

Ellis stared at the door for several seconds, almost wishing that he could see the girl through the cheap wood. There was only a few minutes that passed before Zoey stepped from the bathroom, her hair down and wet, the hoodie draped over her shoulder. The singlet that now covered her torso was blood stained and appeared to have had holes in several places before being roughly sewn back together with different colors of thread.

Without a word to the curious on lookers, she walked to the counter and leaned forward on her elbows, her forehead resting on the surface. Ellis blinked, looking at the long rows of multicolored thread that stretched across her back, the faded but still prominent blood stains… He frowned but bit his tongue as he parted her wet hair away from the cut, the mechanic set to work.

"So where are you guys headed?"

"New Orleans," Rochelle replied. "They are still running evacuations there." Nick was inspecting his work on her face, two butterfly bandages residing on a cut above her eye. He slapped his hands on the outside of the woman's thighs.

He mumbled, "Would be better if we could find some super glue, but it's good enough."

"Thanks, Suit."

After getting her eye cleaned up and her cuts seen to Rochelle joined Coach in search for an appetizing meal. Coach, who had decided that he couldn't wait for finding and cooking what he wanted, had went ahead and pulled open a Hershey chocolate bar. Nick was doing his best to clean off something that looked like blood from the collar of his suit, mumbling about how expensive the ensemble had been. Once Ellis finished he pushed two small paper packages of Advil towards the group's new comrade.

"Might wanna take these," he mumbled.

Zoey lifted her head from the counter, almost squinting for a moment before she gave a thankful smile. Tearing open both packets she took four pills, swallowing them dry. "Thanks, Ellis."

The mechanic nearly blushed. "It's no problem… Zoey."

**xXxX**

It seemed like hours before Ellis could find something that he actually wanted to eat – and even then, he wasn't too sure if he truly wanted to eat it. There were a number of soups on the shelves, some packages of hotdogs, breads, sandwich meats and condiments, but nothing really _sounded_ good. He wanted a big, greasy cheese burger, fresh home style fries, or a steak. Medium rare, with mashed potatoes.

"This sucks," He whined, staring at the package of hotdogs with a dull and bitter look.

Rochelle smiled, opening a bag of plastic utensils. "Just be happy that we have something to eat, sweetie."

"But I want a cheese burger, or a steak, or a pulled pork sandwich – _Oh_, pulled pork."

Nick chuckled as he passed the mechanic, shoving a cold beer against his chest. "At least we got beer," was all the Conman said before he was setting the remainder of the cans on the counter. Ellis smiled, cracking the tab and taking a couple of swigs. Deciding that he was going to start his meal off with some chips while his hot dogs cooked on the slow gas station rotisserie, he turned and set the bag on the counter as well. In doing so, he was able to see Zoey pull out a small pocket knife from out of one of her front pockets. She fiddled with the blade for a few moments before the knife swung open from its secured place… And then with a swift motion she was raising her fist and stabbing the blade down into the top of a can of Spaghetti-O's.

With jerky movements, Zoey began to cut through the top of the can, the knife occasionally lodging itself into a secure position before she was wiggling it loose. Rochelle, who was standing beside the young woman, raised her eyebrow as she unscrewed a lid of peanut butter. "You know honey… I am sure there is a can opener around here."

Zoey gave an apologetic smile as she set the knife down and began to pry the can open with her bare fingers. "I didn't see one." She paused a couple of times to lick the tomato sauce from her digits before tossing the lid into the designated trash bag.

"How in the hell are you going to cook that?" Nick raised his eyebrows, sipping at his beer as he came to stand next to her. The man's lips were too thin and he looked as though he was constantly glowering unless he was outright smiling – which was incredibly rare.

Zoey looked up, seeming almost lost. "I'm not."

The conman stared for a few good seconds and then shook his head, making a face. "Yeah… That's disgusting."

Coach laughed as he joined in on the conversation, a packaged breakfast pastry in his hand. "Don't knock it 'til you try it, Suit." Fiddling with the package he eventually opened it and took a bite, chewing silently and eventually swallowing before asking, "What are you eating anyway?"

Nick shrugged his shoulders. "Haven't decided." There was a moment of silence where he watched Zoey dip a plastic spoon into the opened can, and then she took a bite. "How can you just eat them cold!" He set his can of beer down onto the counter, openly grimacing.

Zoey laughed though it was strained and accompanied by a twinge of her eyes. Her hand went over her mouth as she laughed, hiding the partially chewed food from view. Ellis smiled, watching as she held the can out towards him, giving it a small shake from side to side. Dropping her hand she licked her lips. "Try it."

"No chance."

"Come on."

Nick shook his head. "No."

"C'mon bro, we can reach a whole new friendship plateau."

"What - No."

Ellis raised his hand, chuckling. "I'll even try it – it can't be that bad." If Nick wasn't willing to be on that "friendship plateau", he would _gladly_ take his place.

The can was then extended out towards him, and Ellis reached out and took the spoon from the saucy mixture. Without so much as a second thought he scooped a good spoonful of Spaghetti-O's out of the can and into his mouth. It wasn't a completely pleasant experience but Ellis would have to admit that it wasn't the worst thing that he had ever eaten. Soft fingers brushed over his as the spoon was retrieved "See? It's not horrible."

Ellis licked his lips. "No, not horrible."

Nick shook his head yet again. "No way, that's disgusting. You can keep your weird friendship plateau."

**XxxX**

Eventually the five survivors had eaten their fill of their desired dinner choice, and had moved on to dessert, which fell to a combination of ice creams and chocolate bars. They sat on the floor of the convenient store, talking quietly amongst themselves and Ellis found that sitting next to the most prettiest girl in the world while talking with people that he could consider best friends wasn't a horrible way to spend the evening.

If the zombie apocalypse hadn't occurred, the situation would have been more relaxing in nature. Him and a few friends would take a road trip down for a few nights on the beautiful Georgia beach. With his truck parked out on the sand there would be no real need for a tent as sleeping in the bed of the truck would offer the opportunity to sleep under the stars. There would be bon fires, and entertaining stories. Ellis pictured him and Zoey sitting on a blanket next to the fire, his arm wrapped around her shoulders as they talked and laughed.

"We only had two games to win before we went to state," Coach was saying. There was a fondness in his voice and sadness in his eyes. "Went to practice one day and everyone was sick, the ladies that were on the cheerleading team weren't there and then… It was like hell broke loose. The boys started attacking each other and all that…"

Rochelle leaned over and placed her head on Coach's shoulder, sighing. "I bet they would have been great, Coach."

"You know, me and my friend Keith went to this football game once, and he heard this guy behind us saying how cool it would be if someone went streaking during the half time show… So Keith decided-"

"Ell, pass me that can of Pringles," Nick said as he gestured to the shelf behind him.

"Yeah, okay." Ellis reached behind him and tossed the canister towards the man.

"Zoey," Ro said hesitantly, "You really ought to eat a bit more. Who knows when the chance to eat like this will be back again."

Instead of a verbal reply, Zoey gave a polite smile and took a chocolate square, popping it into her mouth and sucking on it as opposed to chewing.

Clearing her throat, Rochelle lifted her head from Coach's shoulder, sighing wistfully before smiling politely. "So how did you meet your friends?" When group sharing time started, Zoey had gone silent, no more witty comments or talk of friendship plateaus. She just sat and listened, much like Nick usually did.

The college student tilted her head. "Well how did you guys meet?"

"Fuckin' empty helicopter flew off from the evac point and abandoned us."

Ellis turned his head to watch his wife-to-be as a small smile curved its way on to her lips. She leaned back on her hands and sighed softly. The way she moved her head made it clear that her head was still aching. Very slow, very calculated movements that were accompanied by soft exhales of breath and a barely-there grimace.

"Bill found me locked in a closet at the gun store," she said distantly. "The guy running the place pushed me in the closet after he got bit. We later found Francis in the back of a crashed police car and Louis was hiding out in an abandoned town house."

Nick smirked. "I knew that bridge monkey was a convict."

Zoey laughed softly, "Yeah well his story was that he was attacked by one of the infected at the bar, and it broke out into a fight and the police came and it went downhill from there." There was a short silence before Zoey was pushing herself to her feet. "I'm going to go sleep…" she wondered away from the circle and towards the back of the store.

"Notice she mentioned three men, and there were only two at the bridge?" Rochelle asked, her voice just above a whisper.

Nick sighed as if deciding that the topic was suddenly boring. "Is anyone keeping watch or is everyone just going to go to sleep?"

"I'll get it first," Coach huffed, glancing towards the windows. "Just shut things down and I will wake one of you in a few hours."

The remaining three decided to join Zoey in her attempts to get some sleep. Ellis got to his feet and lingered to the back of the store as well to check on the young woman. He saw her lying on the ground, her hoodie tucked under her head, legs bent and eyes closed. Clearing his throat to announce his presence, Ellis lowered to the ground a couple of feet away from the college student. Her eyes fluttered open and she lifted her head to look in his direction.

"Uh, Coach is keepin' watch first 'n' I thought I would come back to check on ya t-"

She lowered her head again, closing her eyes. "I never really thanked you, did I?"

This would be it – the perfect moment to sweep his potential wife into his arms and kiss her… Then, maybe after everyone went to sleep things would get a little more intimate. All he had to do was play his cards right, and he would have that body flush against his. But instead of taking the kill, so to speak, Ellis remained silent after uttering his short and negative response. As much as he wanted to move in on this girl, pull her close and take her, he knew how wrong it would be. No matter the circumstances women should never be treated in such a thoughtless manner. His Mama made sure of that.

"I suppose that I just got used to not saying thank you since Francis got so irritated about it," the girl continued. "He patched up a good cut that I got from a broken window and after I said 'thank you' he just exploded," she smiled fondly. "After that, I just stopped saying it." Pushing herself back into a sitting position, Zoey sighed giving Ellis a warm smile. "So… Thank you, for uh, you know. Saving me. You could have just left."

"Nah, I wouldn' be able to somethin' like that," Ellis shook his head.

"I'm a stranger."

The mechanic frowned, drawing his legs up towards his chest and resting his elbows onto his knees. "No yer not. Yer Zoey."

"But…"

"But nothin'," Ellis said with a shake of his head. "You helped a bunch of strangers, didn't you? Let's just say I returned the favor, 'kay?" He gradually began to stretch out, resting on his stomach. "Now lay down and get some sleep."

Slowly getting herself onto her back, she sighed and closed her eyes. "Good night, Ellis."

Ellis smiled, glancing around their chosen stretch of gas station floor and noticing that Nick and Rochelle had selected a different venue entirely. He was thankful.

"G'night Zoey… G'night Ro, G'night Nick!"

"Yeah, G'night Hillbilly," Ro called out.

**xXxX**

At some point during the night, Zoey found herself shaken awake and when she opened her eyes she saw Nick crouched beside her. He looked tired and at some point he decided to remove his suit jacket. "Hey, you're up until morning."

Zoey pushed herself into sitting position, nodding her head. "M'kay," she mumbled. Grabbing her sweater from its place on the floor, Zoey got to her feet and stretched tired and sore limbs. It seemed that sometime during the night Ellis had moved a little closer, probably between his own shifts. He was curled on his side, hand maybe three inches from her personal space. Walking to the front of the store as silently as she could, she removed one of the pistols from the holsters at her thighs. For a brief moment she reminisced about how uncomfortable sleeping with a gun had been. In order to sleep, she had to move them a good ways from her person, and now it felt strange and foreign to not have the weapons on her person at all times.

Sitting on the counter and gazing out the window, Zoey frowned. Not only had she lost one of her close friends but now she was effectively separated from the people that she considered family. Of course she was more than happy to be alive, and she was truly thankful to Ellis for saving her life but…

She hoped that Louis and Francis would follow them South, just so she could regain the feeling of familiarity.

Having Francis pick on her…

Louis making nerdy jokes for her sake…

She missed them both already.

Looking out of the window she would occasionally see an infected shamble by, lingering around the entrance for only a few moments before they would continue walking on. There would be a loud shriek or a snarl but soon the sounds would pass. At one point a hunter crouched outside of the window, pacing slowly.

As if he knew about the people inside the building.

Zoey slipped from the counter and stayed low, watching the figure stalk back and forth hissing and snarling against the glass.

"I saw 'im too."

The sound of the Southern drawl being so close to her ear made Zoey jump and twist her body enough to see Ellis kneeling down beside her, resting close enough for her to feel his breath when he exhaled. Her startled nerves calmed significantly and her shoulders slouched.

"You mean he's been here for a while…?"

Ellis nodded, making himself comfortable beside her.

Zoey frowned, letting her eyes drop from his and to her lap. It was a little unnerving, knowing that the Hunter was staying outside of the store. It made Zoey wonder if the infected were _aware_. It's opportune moment of attack had been the night before when the group had been crawling out of the vehicle. It could have taken everyone out, one by one.

"Rochelle mentioned 'im when she woke me up," he murmured before stifling a yawn.

Sighing, the college student nodded. She knew that they would deal with the problem later on when they were getting ready to leave. Similar things had happened in the past and things had gone just fine. Closing her eyes, her fingers clicked over the safety of her drawn pistol.

Ellis sighed gently from beside her, "How's yer head doin'?"

"A little sore. Shouldn't you be sleeping?" She opened her eyes and peered at him through the dark.

The mechanic shook his head. "Floor is uncomfortable. I might take a nap or somethin' after we hit the road."

Zoey silently agreed. The floor was uncomfortable and cold and after a while of resting on the ground the surface would stick to the exposed skin and made it difficult to move. The silence that elapsed between the two was comfortable and Zoey was finding she enjoyed the presence of the mechanic. He had a contagious carefree disposition and it was comforting.

"So tell me 'bout yerself, Zoey."

Usually the nostalgic and reminiscent 'tell me about yourself' conversations were often the results of a long and hard trek from safe house to safe house but Ellis was bringing up such things on his own, not opening with a sad and semi-heartbreaking story and allowing Zoey to follow up with another.

"What do you want to know…?"

"Where didja come from? What were you doin' before all this?"

Zoey was silent for a couple of moments before she took a breath. "I came down here from Pennsylvania. I was attending college when all of this happened," she sighed heavily. "Um, I used to run track and I used to have a 4.0 and as soon as I got to school everything just fell apart. I guess I got scared. I didn't know what I wanted, stopped going to classes. I hung around my dad's apartment and watched movies… Argued with my parents."

"Really?"

"My mom kept telling me how expensive college was, how what I chose to do was…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "Dad wanted me to become an officer like him. I wasn't all for the idea, but I wasn't against it either." She was frowning, eyes beginning to water so she closed them for a few moments, getting a hold of her emotions before daring to open them again. Outside, the Hunter continued to pace the entire length of the store window, occasionally standing straight and pressing his grimy hands to the windows, breath fogging up small patches of the windows where his mouth hovered.

"I'm sorry to hear about all that, darlin'," Ellis said gently. She rather liked the term of endearment. "I went to Mama's house every Sunday and had dinner with her."

"Yeah?"

Ellis nodded. "Every Sunday."

Zoey smiled, drawing her legs up to her chest. "That sounds nice."

"No one made Sunday dinner like Mama," Ellis' full lips lifted in to a smile. "I was a mechanic in Savannah, lived there all my life and me and my buddy Keith still hung out on the weekends…" Zoey enjoyed hearing the happiness in his voice. Remembering such memories wasn't hurting Ellis in the slightest, but he was looking back with a fondness that Zoey wish that she had. "We'd go to the beach and have bon fires."

"Sounds like a pretty good time."

He nodded enthusiastically. "I bet you'd love it." As he spoke Zoey found herself reaching out for his shirt sleeve, pushing the clothing up over his shoulder to examine the tattoo that was there. "When did you get this?"

"When I was yer age."

"Well how old are you?"

"Twen'y-three."

Zoey nodded her head in an idle manner, looking at the somewhat intricate design that worked its way around his shoulder. Her fingers brushed over his skin as she pulled his sleeve back into place and when she looked up Ellis was watching her with a gaze that could only be labled as intense. Her body froze, her breath hitched. It had been a while since she had interacted with a male that was close to her age. Sure, Louis was in his twenties, but he was in his late twenties. And though Francis could act like a teenager, he was a good bit older as well. A soft thud from the window made Zoey's head whip around – effectively making her quite dizzy – to stare at the Hunter who was finally moving away from the window and into the shadows. Things could have easily gone awkward – she was surprised how easily she was drawn in by those eyes.

"Tell me more."

This time, Zoey continued to look towards the window, crossing her arms. "What do you want to know?"

Ellis was silent for a moment before nudging her. "Had any boyfriends before all this shit happened?"

Grinning, Zoey shook her head. "'fraid not. I kinda reverted to a hermit."

"Well I would say that that's a shame, but I'd be lyin'…"

Zoey's smile stretched a bit further. She was going to be in trouble with this one. It would seem that Ellis, the Mechanic from Savannah, Georgia, was a bit of a charmer.

**xXxX**

"G'morning kids," Rochelle greeted as she lingered off towards the front of the store. She was rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The cuts around her forehead were significantly less swollen, which was nice to see. The sun had been up for a couple of hours and two of the survivors were still sleeping in their selected area of the store. She plopped down beside Zoey, sighing as she directed her gaze out the window.

Ellis and Zoey had been looking out the window as well, watching as the hunter continued to pace. Zoey was stretched out on her stomach, using her elbows to prop herself up as she stared at the creature while Ellis was stretched out on his back beside her, looking up at the ceiling.

"Mornin' Ro," Ellis greeted.

Rochelle crossed her arms as she sat on her knees. "He's still there, huh?"

Zoey yawned, both of her pistols resting on the tile in front of her. "He's been coming and going since I started watch. Ellis said he was here when you were up too?"

"Mm-hmm," Rochelle hummed.

Ellis turned his head to watch as Zoey lifted herself to her knees. "It's obvious he's waiting for us to come out then," she said distantly, grabbing both of her guns. The hunter turned to face the window again, growling as stared in through the glass. His sweater was bloody and torn and his teeth were grimy and stained. Zoey aimed one of her pistols towards the waiting Hunter and sneered. "Yeah, I see you too, _fucker_."

"So how do we get out?"

"We kill the sonnova bitch, c'mon now Ro!" Ellis tsked, tilting his head as he gave her a smile. "Jus' blow his damn brains out."

"Unless he's got some friends," Nick grumbled.

Ellis lifted his torso enough to see Nick standing a couple of feet away, looking tired and rather grumpy – which was normal. Nick seemed to have a natural scowl but in the morning he seemed downright pissed off. He was holding his jacket in his hand, his shotgun in the other as he gave the Hunter on the other side of the glass a death stare. Craning his head back, Ellis looked out the window for a moment. "So why don't we get some breakfast before we decide to go and kill 'im? Ro, you wanna go wake up Coach while I crack open a box of donuts?" Ellis pushed himself into sitting position before he was on his feet and searching for the biggest box of donuts that he could.

Despite the current issue with the Hunter, who had wondered dangerously close to Jimmy Gibbs Junior's car, Ellis found that he was thoroughly enjoying his morning. He had spent a number of hours talking with Zoey, simply asking her random questions at the top of his head…

He knew that her favorite color was green, that she had her ears pierced twice but no longer wore any earrings, that she had a golden retriever named Bo that died when she was a kid, that she disliked most bugs, that her favorite cereal was Cinnamon Life. He had also learned that she had a mild infatuation with horror movies and video games and how her father would take her to the shooting range before the infection spread…

Walking back to the front of the store with a gallon of milk and a box of large assorted donuts, Ellis decided that he was going to proceed to question the girl until he knew all about her and as he questioned her, she would get similar information from him… and soon it would be like they had known each other for years. Setting the breakfast selection on to the counter, Ellis opened the donuts and selected one of the first chocolate donuts from the box. "Coach, c'mon now yer missin' out on breakfast!"

"I'm comin' youngin'," the deep voice groused from somewhere in the lines of shelves.

"Bring a pack of cups while yer at it."

Nick snatched a glazed donut and ate, glancing at Zoey who was slowly walking towards the window in order to stand in front of the Hunter as it straightened into standing position. Ellis licked his lips, taking another bite as he looked on as well.

"Thinkin' about scaring him off like that, baby girl?"

Zoey turned her head as Coach finally joined the group, Rochelle at his side with a package of Dixie cups. The college student grinned, placing her hands on her hips as she proceeded to glare out into the beautiful Georgia morning…

Or at the Hunter, more specifically.

"Sleep alright Coach?"

"Like a baby," The burly man mumbled, grabbing a powdered donut from the stack.

Rochelle chuckled, opening the cups in order to pour everyone a good glass of milk to go with their morning meal. "So what's the plan?" she requested, grabbing a glazed donut and taking a decent sized bite.

"Well… First we need to kill this kid here," Nick stated. "And then-"

"Then we drive to New Orleans in the Jimmy Gibbs and get the hell out of here!" Ellis cheered, half of a donut still in his hand.

Rochelle smiled. "That would be awesome if it was that easy," she said almost distantly.

"That's no way to be thinkin', Ro… Be positive!" Coach said gently as his donut vanished into his mouth, followed by his cup of milk.

Breakfast went by smoothly, and collectively the survivors went and picked up a number of food items and first aid kits and water and beer and shoved them into a number of plastic bags while Zoey opened a large sharpie marker and approached the far wall. Ellis watched, holding his shotgun, as Zoey scrolled a message onto the wall…

_Francis & Louis,_

_Headed to New Orleans for evac.  
You guys better be there…_

_- Zoey_

Ellis approached a few moments later as Coach and Rochelle gathered the sacks of supplies and piled them by the door. Nick was using the bathroom, the door closed and locked. He had been in there for what seemed like several minutes and Ellis had overheard Rochelle and Coach – both of them thinking that the conman was trying to clean up his mechanic reached out and nudged the college student, gesturing to the sharpie marker in her hand.

"May I?"

Zoey looked confused for a moment and then nodded, passing Ellis the writing utensil. Stepping towards the wall, he began to write his message a little distance under hers.

_Francis and Louis,_

_Sorry about kidnapping your friend.  
I'm sure you would have done the same._

_- Ellis_

His hand writing was rather neat as it bordered on cursive and standard hand writing - his signature starting with a big E that twisted into the double loops of his L's and eventually ended with the tail of is S trailing over to dot the I that preceded it. Zoey's writing, mean while was blocky and clear, her signature remaining in lower case lettering. After capping the sharpie marker, Ellis passed it back to Zoey, who slid the marker into her pocket along with her pocket knife.

Eventually, Nick exited the bathroom with a whiter, cleaner looking jacket and pants and as the collective gaze of the four landed on him, he simply adjusted the collar and went to retrieve his shot gun from the counter. Coach and Rochelle both shared a look, Rochelle beginning to laugh as Coach shook his head – almost shamefully. "Alright," Suit said, ignoring the banter. "Let's go." He positioned himself at the door, shotgun aimed at the Hunter who was crouched just outside.

Ellis stood a little ways off to his side, holding his own shotgun while Coach and Rochelle aimed their rifles, the light hearted and optimistic words that were offered during breakfast vanishing instantly. Zoey moved next to the door, reaching for the lock as she flicked the safety off of her pistol, the second hand gun remaining in its holster on her outer thigh while her rifle was mounted on her back.

"Ready?"

The group nodded and then the lock was flicked. The survivors visibly tensed, expecting the Hunter to promptly dive through the door and attack but the creature waited…

"I'm going to push open-"

"Don't you think about it," Rochelle nearly snapped.

"the door and duck. Please don't blow my head off," Zoey finished.

Nick looked down at his shotgun and then up at the young college student seeming to ponder his choice. "And if I do?"

Ellis threw a scowl in the conman's direction, finding that such conversation topics didn't improve his mood in the slightest. Due to his current placement of anger, he hadn't expected for Zoey to move so suddenly, pushing the door open and dropping to her knee in a smooth and practiced motion. In that instant there was a loud snarl and the Hunter leaned back on its haunches and then launched itself forward while Nick aimed his shotgun and fired.

The buck shot hit the Hunter in the face, causing his head to snap backwards and his leap to be canceled mid way. Blood shot in all directions as the bullets carved into the zombie's nose, exposing the cartilage structure beneath and leaving bits of hanging skin and destroyed tissue. Zoey pivoted on her knee and glanced Nick's way. "Nice shot," she commented.

The conman shrugged, a smug smile on his face before he was reaching out and helping Rochelle and Coach pick up the supplies they had packed into the several different bags. Zoey, meanwhile had stepped a little further outside, checking the roof of the convenient store before she was lowering her guns. Ellis approached the vehicle, glancing her way as he unlocked the passenger door. There was a moment of silence before the engine revved and Ellis was maneuvering the car next to the gas pump.

Coach sighed heavily as he bypassed the college student. "Everybody better use the bathroom 'cause we aren't stopping for bathroom breaks," he called to everyone as he piled the supplies into the floor boards of the passenger seat. Ellis leaned back against the stock car as the tank was filled with gas. He crossed his arms and watched as both Rochelle and Zoey turned and made their way back inside.

Nick came to stand besides Ellis, the barrel of his shotgun resting on his shoulder. "So? How was last night?"

Ellis grinned, lifting his head to look at the conman. " We just talked."

"Just talked?"

Coach joined the two, watching as Zoey stood outside of the bathroom. "Don't you be goin' and causin' problems, Ellis."

"Nah, don't worry 'bout that Coach, I have no intension of causing those kind of problems."

"Yeah Coach, remember?" Nick gestured towards the younger male. "He's gonna marry her."

Ellis nodded his head. He was definitely going to marry her and there was going to be no way around it. They had talked a good bit while the rest were asleep and as the moments passed Ellis was discovering just how beautiful the girl really was. She was funny, she was smart… "Yeah, Coach… I am gonna marry this one. Zombie apocalypse be damned."

"Whatever you say, youngin'…"

The gas pump clicked audibly and Ellis reached out to replaced the nozzle to its cradle just as the ladies lingered out from the bathroom. Ellis opened the driver's side door. "Let's get this show on the road then!"

Ellis helped Rochelle climb into the back, who was followed by Coach and then after a few moments Nick nudged the Mechanic then climbed into the back as well, leaving Rochelle sitting in between the two men, each of them resting their weapons between their legs with the barrel down. Closing the driver's side door, Ellis smiled as he watched Zoey walk around the front of the car.

"Thanks Nick," was all the mechanic had time to say before Zoey was climbing in, her rifle in her hands as she plopped into the seat. Starting the engine with one good crank of the key, Ellis smiled as he shifted the car into gear and took off, leaving the gas station behind.

**xXxX**

Ellis drove for the majority of the day, his posture relaxed and comfortable. One leg was stretched out towards the peddles while the other was bent up towards him, his elbow using his knee as a resting place while he kept one hand near the bottom of the wheel. Zoey, meanwhile, was stretched out in the front seat, staring out the window, her chin resting in her hand as she stared out into the scenery. Nick, Rochelle, and Coach had taken the opportunity to relax and drift in and out of sleep…

Considering the fact that the Jimmy Gibbs Junior was a stock car the vehicle didn't have any use for a functional radio, and thus it didn't carry one. At the moment, Ellis found this mildly saddening, as the silence in the car was getting a little over bearing…

"So what kinda music do you like, Zoey?"

The college student turned her head so she was facing the front of the car, her weight shifting into the center of the seat. She bit her lip in thought and then exhaled. "Um, anything really… Except for rap… and hip hop. And Bluegrass."

Ellis cast her a sideways glance. "What's wrong with bluegrass?"

"Banjos? Have you ever _seen _Deliverance?"

He snorted. Of course that was her answer, and it was justifiable. That movie scared him out of camping for a good couple of months…

"Alright, what's wrong with Rap?"

Zoey lifted her hands from her lap, moving them as if she were a DJ, her fingers touching invisible discs. "I wanna _beep-beep _your _beep-beep-beep-beep!" _She shook her head, letting her hands plop back into her lap. "That… is not music."

"Hip hop?"

Zoey adjusted her posture, pushing herself up and crossing her legs. "Have you seen music videos to stuff like that? It's all…" she made a brief hand motion. "It's all 'I'm going to sex you up' and all. There is enough of that in the media, I don't want to be listening to it."

Ellis smiled. The girl definitely had her mind made and it was that sure-mindedness that Ellis always enjoyed. There were too many young ladies following trends – buying that one set of fuzzy boots because every other girl owned that same pair of fuzzy boots… It was almost infuriating, the mindlessness of it all. "How about you? What kind of music do you like?"

"I like country, classic rock, some of the newer stuff… "

"Country," Zoey commented, and sent him a side-ways glance. "Does that include Bluegrass?"

Ellis sent her the same glance. "Maybe."

"Okay, okay," she chuckled and lifted her hands in mock surrender.

He laughed, shaking his head as he looked to the road. He definitely found himself a good one.

**xXxX**

_So what I am going to do for this chapter – or possibly the next few… Is do little blips of the L4D2 Campaign so I am not writing out every level with Zoey just thrown in there at random. So I am going to do bits and pieces of the campaign… And then see if I can't get creative enough to make my own._


	2. The Run

**Now rewritten!**

**XXXX**

Francis paced the length of the safe house, his partially gloved fingers clenched as grumbled bitterly under his breath. Ever since the events at the bridge he had been in an incredibly sour mood. Louis, meanwhile, had been nursing his wounds and remaining silent – only throwing his two cents in when he found that it was absolutely necessary.

"Francis, man, can you just sit down for a couple of minutes?" Louis sighed, watching as Francis paused in his pacing. "She'll be fine."

"But that Hillbilly bastard _took_ Zoey! We were already one man down and now we are missing her and you're still hurting." He ran his hand down his face, sighing heavily. "It's down to me and you and we need to _find _her? That's gonna be impossible."

"That's no way to think."

There was a silence between the two as loud, eerie laughter leaked in to the confines of the safe room. Both heads turned in the direction in which the sound came, expressions grim. The infected were different in Georgia, there was more, and they were significantly more dangerous than anything they would have expected. Finding their friend would be a challenge for both of them and they knew that there was a possibility that they would not find her.

"I'm gonna kill that fuckin' hillbilly."

xXxX

_Francis & Louis_

_Going to Whispering Oaks…__  
__Hurry up. _

_-Zoey_

_Francis and Louis_

_I'm still sorry for kidnapping your friend.__  
__… Kinda…_

_-Ellis_

xXxX

Zoey was exhausted. Simply exhausted. They had started at the carnival entrance and from there they had trekked through the majority of the carnival. Kiddieland – one of Ellis' favorite parts of the evening – was a hellish adventure and Zoey had hoped that the evening couldn't get any worse. But then it did. The entire layout of the Tunnel of Love had been far beyond anything she could have imagined; the narrow tunnels giving them advantage but only for a short amount of time. When the infected began to attack from each end of the tunnel their progress took a nose dive.

All it took was a smoker and their numbers rapidly dropped as one other person broke from the pack to try and assist their fallen team mate. From their fight through the Tunnel of Love they ended up on the tracks of a wooden rollercoaster that once again put the group's skills to the test. After managing to get through the hellish bowels of Whispering Oaks they found themselves resting in a safe house just outside of the arena.

"Everyone take a minute or two to rest up," Coach instructed as he downed the contents of a bottle of water that had been in the safe room. Rochelle was nursing an injured arm, a decent bruise already forming over her skin from a nasty run in with a Charger. Nick was doing his best to remove boomer bile from his pants, having already wasted a full bottle of water on the knee of his right leg. Ellis was stretched out on the ground, his shotgun resting over his torso, eyes closed and hat twisted off to the side as he let his eyes close.

"I never wanna go to a carnival ever again!" He announced, and there were a few grumbles of quite agreement.

"Who wouldda thought of zombified clowns?" Coach wondered out loud, seeming quite bitter over the subject.

The noisy zombie attracted a number of infected with the squeaky soles of his elongated shoes and it had been one of their first issues when entering the carnival. "I've hated clowns ever since I saw _The It_," Zoey grumbled. She hated to admit that she had such a childish phobia but when the first of the Zombie-Clown had charged at her she yelped and shrank away – almost resorting to running in the opposite direction in order to get rid of the ex-child entertainer.

"_The It_?" Rochelle lifted her eyes from her arm, eyebrows raised.

"Stephen King?"

There was a moment of silence as Rochelle's lips lifted into a knowing smirk. "Oh I gotcha, girl," she nodded in slow, traumatized agreement before returning her attention back to her arm. "Movie was straight messed up."

"You don't like clowns?" Ellis lifted his head to glance Zoey's way and she nodded, leaning her back against the wall of the safe house, her thumb flicking over the safety of her pistol.

"Hate them." Ellis nodded as if committing that bit of information to memory and then plopped back to the floor.

Minutes went by faster than anticipated and before anyone found themselves truly ready, they were standing on the stage in the middle of the small arena, preparing themselves to call in the horde. Multiple times while the group was getting ready Ellis placed himself in front of the microphone on the center of stage.

"_Check one… Check-check."_

Zoey climbed the stairs towards the top rows of seating, digging the sharpie marker from her pocket as she neared the walls.

_Francis & Louis,_

_Catching the chopper out of here.__  
__Still going to New Orleans._

_-Zoey_

xXxX

_Francis & Louis_

_Headed towards the plantation._

_-Zoey_

_Francis and Louis_

_Your girl shot the chopper pilot._

_-Ellis_

_He turned into a zombie!_

_-Zoey_

_She still shot the pilot…_

_-Ellis_

_**XxXx**_

Ellis made a conscious effort to keep tabs on everyone in the party as they made their way through the swamp. Him and Coach seemed to be more accustomed to the overall layout of the swamp but as the larger man was leading, Ellis took it upon himself to stay back and watch his companions. On many occasions someone would lose their footing or get sucked down into the mud and Ellis would be the first to jump forward and lend a helping hand. It only took moments for the entire team to be muddied from head to toe – only their weapons being kept in a clean condition.

The mosquitoes were expected but for anyone not familiar with the southern swamp lands they were horrible and irritating. Every few moments there was an audible slap as someone attacked their own skin in order to get rid of the small insects. Zoey, Ellis noted, seemed to be incredibly miserable next to the others. Nick had ventured in to swampy places a time or two while Rochelle's job often had her traveling to rather unfavorable places; she was muddy and had her sweater zipped all the way up to her neck – but that made the hem of her shirts rise whenever she was walking or kneeling and that left her skin exposed to the grime and the pesky mosquitoes. As time went on, Ellis decided to untie the arms of his jump suit around his waist and slide his bared arms into the protective sleeves and he then zipped the top to his neck.

"Hey Suit, is that shirt long sleeved?" The River Boat Gambler glanced back at the Mechanic and then sighed before removing his muddied suit jacket and passing it off to Rochelle.

"Thanks, Suit," the woman mumbled as she carefully slid her arms into the sleeves.

This left Coach the only man running around without full cover but he didn't seem to have too much problem as the mosquitoes appeared to be avoiding him. All complaints were being held back as feet sank further into mud and gunk and hazardous waters that began to rise to their knees.

As Ellis watched the group he noted that all eyes were on the ground, trying to pick out the best place for footing and it almost seemed that at the same moment that he dared to look down to find ideal foot-holds, hell broke loose. The loud collective roar of an oncoming horde resounded through the swampland. Weapons were instantly raised and then there was gunfire as the creatures tore their way through the surrounding trees. Ellis lifted his shotgun and fired at the oncoming infected, waiting for them to get within a few feet before pulling the trigger.

The buckshot burst from the barrel and scattered, effectively tearing its way through the tender flesh of a jugular and bursting through the back of the throat. The infected that were a little further back received the large pelts to the eyes and nose, tearing apart the entire facial structure of the creatures. Blood began to mix in with mud and bodies were left to float freely as the group did their best to protect themselves. In the front of the pack, Coach was waving his rifle in front of him as he tried to get himself enough room to get an effective shot in. A loud, throaty yell called out from within the horde.

"Hunter!" Rochelle called out, and Ellis thought that for a moment, he saw the woman pointing the pouncing zombie out from their still charging enemy. Using the butt of his empty shotgun, Ellis attacked what he could while feeling his heart thump into overdrive. There was a startled scream and a splash though no one was fully able to assess the situation as the end of the horde was picked off. The screams of the infected ended with one final shot from Nick's rifle though there was a loud, panicked and forceful splashing only a few feet away.

Ellis' head followed the commotion as he noticed the flailing limbs of a pinkish red sweater as they shot out from the water, fighting off the growling hunter. The water was offering enough resistance for the female to fight the creature off but her body was fully submerged. "Zoey!"

"Shit!" Nick was the first to step forward, his foot sinking deep into the mud under the water though he was able to pitch his body forward far enough to give the hunter a good push off of the female and once it was off of the girl, Rochelle took fire and Zoey pushed herself from the water, her head emerging for moments before she sank back under the water.

Ellis lowered himself next to the girl, his arms reaching under the water and curving under her back. It would seem that as she pushed herself from the water, her hands had sank into the mud, pulling the girls arms from the mud required a couple of good tugs before Zoey was resting against Ellis' chest, clinging to his arm as she gasped for much needed air.

"I coulda swore I got him," Coach breathed as he took a small step forward. Ellis looked towards the large man, noting the guilt that was tracing his features.

"Ssh, breathe girl… Come on Zoey, slow breaths. You're fine." Ellis coached, pushing the wet hair from her eyes. "Slow, deep breaths, Zo."

Nick managed to yank his foot from the mud, hissing. "Alright I know she is having a few problems but we need to keep moving."

Rochelle sent the conman a scowl but remained silent, knowing that he was right.

"Come on Zo," Ellis murmured as he helped her to her feet, and keeping his arm close around her, he helped her the rest of the way out of the swamp.

_Francis & Louis_

_We're catching the boat out of here…__  
__Follow the river to New Orleans. _

_Zoey_

_Francis and Louis_

_We're taking good care of her._

_-Ellis_

xXxX

The boat was easing its way up the river, and the group were taking their time regathering themselves from their excursion through the swamp. Thankfully the southern heat dried their wet and soiled clothes and the bug bites and minor wounds were tended to. At one point Nick had managed to drag Coach and Ellis into a couple of games of poker while Zoey tried to explain to Rochelle why she was currently barefoot.

"Trench foot?" Rochelle looked skeptical.

"You've never heard of it?"

"Um…?" The older woman raised her eyebrow.

Zoey took a breath. "If your feet are kept in damp and dirty places they like," she made a brief hand gesture. "Start to rot 'n stuff."

Silence ensued, followed by quick and panicky movements as she did her best to remove her socks and shoes in a quick and efficient manner. "That's disgusting, girl," she grumbled. Zoey smiled in an almost devious manner as she shrugged her shoulders.

"I was just sayin'…"

"'ey guys? Take your socks and shoes off… Your feet will rot."

The men of their party shared a collective glance towards Rochelle before they began to remove their shoes – save for Nick who simply raised his eyebrow. "…And why do I have to remove my shoes…?"

Rochelle snapped her fingers and then glanced at Zoey for support. "What's it called?"

She sighed. "Trench foot."

"She says your feet will start to rot."

Nick's shoes came off quite quickly. Ellis snickered as he tossed his shoes and socks over his shoulder, tossing his cards down with his freehand. "Zoe, where did you hear about this whole trench boot business?" He scooted away from the card game to allow Coach and Nick to continue playing.

Zoey sighed, "Bill."

"Bill…?"

She nodded, a frown making its way to her features as she took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "Bill was full of fun information, and stories…"

"And where is this Bill?"

"The bridge."

"But-"

"The Green Beret," Nick said softly, and Ellis glanced between the two of them as they shared a brief glance. Zoey was nodding, frowning.

Zoey leaned back on her palms as she closed her eyes. "He was the leader, pretty much. He got us through the hospital, the airport, the woods… The crazy barnyard. We got to the bridge and he sent us up while he filled the generator. After that, we just sorta stayed there as we tried to figure out where we were going."

"So you guys became bridge monkeys," Nick grumbled.

Zoey stuck out her tongue. "Hey, if I recall, the bridge monkeys saved your ass."

Ellis cleared his throat, calling her attention. "Actually… I think it was _me_ that saved _your _ass."

She laughed, waving her hand at him as if to shoo him away. "Yes yes, and I owe you for that… and the swamp thing. The score is Ellis-two, Zoey-zero."

"Aw, Zo, I ain't keepin' score…"

xXxX

_Francis & Louis,_

_Watch out for witches. _

_-Zoey_

_Francis and Louis,_

_I counted 15._

_-Ellis_

The group was back on the boat, all of them a bit worse for wear. Nick had gotten on the receiving end of a Spitter and there was a fist-sized hole in his jacket and shirt, and his arm seemed severely burnt where the acid had made contact. Thankfully they had proper medical supplies to take the burn from the inflicted area though the Conman, over all, seemed a bit more worried about the hole in his jacket.

Coach was limping – which definitely didn't help with his abilities to keep up with the group when it came to any long distance running. He decided to keep his foot elevated and set a cold bottle of water against the swollen area. This didn't last long, as he took frequent drinks of the water and ultimately ended up with an empty plastic bottle.

Rochelle ended up with a few deep cuts along her forearms that were stitched together with materials that were found on the boat. Though Zoey was positive that using old fishing line would spread infection, the boat's captain ensured that he knew what he was doing. Zoey still wasn't too sure.

Ellis had gotten on the wrong end of an angry Witch, though she only got one good swipe at him. Her claws grazed over his chest. The cuts were shallow but the entire ordeal was enough to scare the young man into a jumpy mess when they were searching for the gas station. Now that he was comfortably on the boat, however, he was a little more laid back.

"Do you think it will scar?" He looked down at Zoey as she reached forward to apply some disinfectant to the cuts.

"I dunno," she sighed, glancing up at him before the lotion was spread over the wounded area.

"That'd be so awesome." Laughing, Zoey looked up again, raising her eyebrows and he instantly went in to explaining. "How manly would that look? I mean c'mon, be honest."

Zoey grinned, chewing on the inside of her lip for the space of a couple of second before she cleared her throat. "I used to be a sucker scars. Like in the movies where the scars were over the eyes? Sexy."

His eyes seemed to grow wide under her gaze and he leaned forward slowly, closing the distance by an inch or so before he whispered. "You know, these might scar." She snickered, as she moved to the second laceration. There was a total of four – and all of which started with a deep gash at the impact point and then grew shallow as the stretched over the Mechanic's torso.

xXxX

Ellis found himself somewhat floored by his future wife's response. The girl liked scars and he had plenty. Sure, he didn't have as much as Keith, but he had quite a few of his own. Grinning, he bent his right arm and pointed at a long stretch of discolored skin that stretched from his elbow to mid-forearm. Zoey sat back and humored the Mechanic, smiling as he explained.

"Got this on my fifteenth birthday. My mama bought me a set of roller blades and me 'n' Keith decided to make a little jump to skate off of. It broke." The story ended there as he gestured to his arm yet again. "Lookin' back, it would have been good if we didn' use plywood. Even better if Keith didn't try it right after I did."

Zoey smiled as she unrolled the beginning of the gauze, watching as he pulled up his pant leg to show off his calf, another decent sized scar that marred the flesh there. The overall movement made him grimace, straining the wounds on his abdomen, but he soldiered on.

"Me 'n' Keith got into a fight with fireworks one year." As he pointed out his scars he couldn't help but notice that every so often her eyes would flicker elsewhere, lingering on something that wasn't the exposed scar. When one of her fingertips drifted over the top of his hand he smiled. "Mechanic hands." He offered as he held out both hands, palms up.

His hands were rather scarred and very calloused, as his job had him working with his hands and getting them rather beaten up. There were times that the skin on his hands were dried and cracking to the point of bleeding but he would continue working – he had to. Zoey tilted her head, reaching out and touching a scar on his wrist with her finger tip. "Barbed wire." She nodded, beginning to withdraw her in order to fuss with the roll of bandages.

Zoey offered little resistance when Ellis took her wrist in a gentle grasp. Without much pause he guided her fingers back down to his wrist, guiding her fingers over the small scars. She felt the differences of the callused and smoother skin, felt the dips and peaks of scarred flesh; she didn't notice Ellis remove his hand from her wrist. Her soft fingers lingered over his hands, tracing scars and calluses. Whenever she would linger over one particular scar, Ellis would tell her about what happened and how he obtained the scar that caught her interest. Smiling, she held up the bandages. "C'mon, let's get to this…"

Ellis nodded, leaning back onto his hands.

**XxX**

As she rested between his knees, she leaned forward and circled the bandages around his back before wrapping them over the front of his body. After running through the routine a number of times, the situation clicked in the poor girl's mind. Sitting between his legs, she would lean forward and put her arms around him, she had touched him – his hands and his arms…

_I see what you did thar. _

Zoey stopped aiding Ellis with his injuries and slowly – very, very slowly – lifted her head to look up towards him. He had fixed her with that same stare that he had given her in the convenience store – that same look that made her entire body freeze.

"You alright, darlin'?"

She nodded slowly, still feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. He leaned forward slightly and then leaned back – as if he was fixing his posture. He leaned back on his hands and gestured for her to finish off, finally lifting his gaze. His eyes were expressive, conveying feelings and emotions with just a glance and when he pinned her with that look – _man. _When he looked at her the way he did, her body would tense, her heart would leap and her stomach would flip.

Zoey let out a breath that she didn't realize she had been holding, and closed her eyes for a moment before tying off the bandages. "Thanks, Zoey."

Another stiff nod.

xXxX

"You want _me _to run it?" Zoey suddenly felt uncomfortable as she stared out at the gauntlet. Narrow openings lined with tall fences and then a tall scaffolding platform in the heart of the intimidating mess. Nick nodded from his place beside her.

"Coach's ankle is still a little off. Look, we can cover you from right there." He pointed to the opening of the gauntlet, and lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "I thought you ran track?"

"I do – I did!"

Nick raised his eyebrows as he crossed his arms, waiting for her to continue before the college student was sighing. She didn't want to run this mess by herself.

"Let me stretch my legs."

Nick nodded his head and lingered off to reload his weapon. Bending at the waist, Zoey reached down and touched her toes. Breathing through her nose, she felt her muscles gradually stretch, loosening comfortably under the subtle pressure she was applying. Straightening, she took a breath and then bent at the waist yet again, this time, he palms resting flat against the floor as she took more slow, deep breaths.

"Oh come on!"

"Let the girl stretch, Suit," Coach grumbled as Zoey straightened yet again, passing her weapons off to Ellis, who passed them to Rochelle, who began to check her supply of ammunition. She knew that packing the guns would be added weight that would throw her off, and in order to get to the end of the gauntlet efficiently, she was going to have to have as much of an advantage that she could get – even though, technically, running weaponless into a horde of zombies was really the biggest disadvantage that Zoey could imagine.

"Are you sure about this?" Ellis asked her, and Zoey turned her gaze to him, giving him a small smile. He looked worried.

"Nope," she said easily, but shrugged her shoulders. "But we need-"

Nick kicked the door open and the shrill alarm instantly sounded. Her muscles flinched into position in a quick jolt of movement – her weight being pressed onto the front leg, while the other went back – and then she bolted out the door. The screams of the infected pierced through the sounds of the alarm before she even hit the ground outside, and by the time she was in the middle of the first row of fencing, the creatures were scaling the chained links. Gun fire burst out over the top of the already loud and hectic mess.

The infected were pouring in from all angles, and though the majority were being picked off before they could make it into the confines of the gauntlet, there were a good number that were able to reach her – yet she pushed on. Ducking low to the ground and pitching her weight forward, she made her way through the fray, avoiding the flailing limbs until she was away from the bulk of the creatures. As she straightened she barely heard the familiar screech and make out the hooded creature as it lunged out from its fallen brethren. As the hooded infected drew closer, Zoey placed her weight on her toes and then twisted. She span out of the Hunter's path and collided with the fence, losing most of her momentum.

"Hunter!" She shrieked as she pitched her body back into motion.

xXxX

Ellis didn't notice that he was holding his breath as he picked off the infected that were chasing after his intended girlfriend. He searched for the Hunter but couldn't find the creature in the midst of charging bodies and fallen horde members.

"Go, go, go…" he whispered as he pulled the trigger yet again. Keeping the infected from the girl was a bit more of a challenge,as they were charging after them as well – and as they stood at the opening of the gauntlet they were held in place.

Ellis could only watch as Zoey was attacked as she climbed the ladder to get on top of the scaffolding. As she stepped on to the fourth or fifth rung, the Hunter launched from the corpses, the force of impact sending him, Zoey, and the ladder to the ground in a flailing heap.

"Zoey!"

Ellis broke from the group and made his way into the first stretch of the gauntlet as he tried to get a better shot.

"Dammit, Ellis!"

Using the butt of his gun, he knocked several zombies stumbling back, and by the time he took aim for his next shot Zoey was on her feet, holding the ladder in between her and the hunter. As the creature lunged for the girl, its head snapped off to the side as a spray of bullets made contact with its cranium. Zoey's head was instantly turning towards him, eyes wide in petrified surprise.

"Get the damn alarm!" he ordered as he raised his weapon again, sending the butt into the face of a lone zombified woman. Her nose caved back into her skull, blood spurting from the nostrils.

Quite suddenly, the alarm silenced, the screams died, and with a few lingering gunshots there was silence. Zoey was on the top of the scaffolding, breathing heavily while Ellis looked on, leaning against the fencing as he silently thanked whatever otherworldly power and Godlike figure he could think of.

Slowly – very slowly – he turned to face Nick as he, Rochelle, and Coach waded through the bodies towards them. He pointed, singling Nick out from the group, before snapping. "You don't get to make anymore decisions!"

"Fuck your decisions!" Zoey shouted from the scaffolding, sitting on her knees now. "And fuck yo couch!"

Nick raised his eyebrows, seeming indifferent. "Fuck my what?"

xXxX

Chopper blades, explosions, screams, gunfire.

The run across the bridge had happened so fast, and now with everyone safely on the helicopter, Zoey had to think- fast. There was no way that she could just leave the area and not leave some sort of message, some kind of hint as to wear she was headed. Jumping out of the chopper she ran across the walkway and towards the mess of fences that lined the way to the landing zone.

"Zoey! Get your ass back here!" Nick was shouting now, adding to the mess of noise.

Thinking on her toes, the girl tore one of the arms off of her zip-up and threaded them through a couple of the links of the fencing, and then she was dropping to her knees, extracting the marker from her pocket.

_Guys, evacua-_

The tale of her A went shooting out to the side as her entire body was yanked up from the ground. It was Nick, wielding a lone pistol as she dragged her back to the helicopter. She kicked and screamed, trying to finish what she had started, to leave a message for her friends, but as soon as they were safe within the chopper, they took off.

As they lifted from the LZ the bridge that they had just ran across exploded, leaving nothing but debris and rubble in the water. As they got higher, the girl ripped off her second sleeve and released the fabric, watching it drift towards the cloudy haze of water, rock, and corpses below.

"I don't care what you were trying to do – it was retarded!" Nick scolded, calling her attention back to the situation at hand. She frowned, lowering her eyes to her hands, her bare arms.

"I was-"

"I don't give a damn! I doubt your bridge monkey friends want to find your corpse!"

Zoey fell silent, allowing the man to scold her, and the familiarity of it all made her begin to smile. His tone, though it had undertones of bitter indifference, reminded her of her father – the constant scolding, the worried yet angry tone. She nodded and let herself relax in her seat. No one had bothered with telling Nick that he should back off and Zoey figured that it was because they all generally felt the same way, so she let him go without a fight.

"Okay," she murmured.

He nodded, and then there was relative silence as the pilot navigated the sky.

xXxX

As time went on, Ellis noticed that Zoey was slowly shredding her hoodie and dropping the bits of fabric out of the chopper as it made its way over abandoned earth and fire-encased buildings. As another bit of fabric fluttered out of the chopper he couldn't help but sigh, seeing that the girl was wearing only her singlet to cover he torso. More scars marred that once delicate flesh and he couldn't help but notice the dimming after math of mosquito bites. Some spots were only bits of faded pink while others were scabbed over from constant itching and chaffing of clothing. He frowned once he examined the other scars that wound around her arms and bulged from the skin. Some of these, he knew, would eventually fade over time while others would remain as a grim reminder.

Sighing, he leaned back in his seat and lowered his hat over his eyes, allowing his feet to prop up on the seat across from him, near Zoey's lap. He heard her make a soft sound of surprise and he lifted his hat for a moment to look her way. She was watching him, eyebrows raised in silent inquiry that he merely shrugged at – and that was all she needed. He let the end of his hat drop back over his face, and closed his eyes. As much as he wanted to take a few minutes and get some sleep there was a question that he wanted answered, and it was gnawing at the back of his mind.

Why had she ran out of the chopper?

He knew it was to leave a message from her friends but…

Was it really so bad, here with him and the others? So much so that she would risk her life in order to tell the two men that she didn't know where they were going? He bit his tongue, telling himself that he would have possibly done the same and yet…

His hat was removed from his face and settled back on the top of his head so he could watch her. He began to speak but hesitated. Were the others awake? A quick glance at the three confirmed that they were asleep – or simply relaxing. Throwing caution to the wind, he looked back at the girl who was gazing out the side of the chopper.

"Why'd you jump out?"

She seemed startled as her eyes instantly flickered towards him. "Huh?

"Before we took off, you jumped out of the chopper-"

"I had to leave a-"

"No, you didn't." There was a strained silence as he watched the girl.

"Yes, I did. There was no other way for them to know where I'm going."

Ellis gestured to the girl's state of dress, pushing her attention to her bare arms. "This idea wouldn't work without you jumping out?"

She sighed, crossing her arms. "Alright, why are you-"

"What would have happened if Nick didn't jump out and get you?"

She didn't answer.

"I sure as hell didn't see you jump off at the last second, and Coach and Rochelle? If I didn't how could they have?" He was keeping his tone even, trying to get across that he wasn't angry (well, really, he kinda was) about what she did, but at the same time, wanting her to know that it was a stupid decision. Reckless, thoughtless.

Ellis was glad that Nick had the ability to be as blunt as he was, to call her out on the decision and not sugarcoat it. He was also glad that Nick had done it, it showed that he too cared for the girl – maybe not the same way Ellis did, but he still cared all the same.

xXxX

Zoey lowered her eyes to her lap, feeling guilty. He was right – what were the odds that they would see a note left on the ground – of all places? Shaking her head, she looked up towards him. "I'm sorr-"

The chopper was suddenly spinning out of control, a loud beeping accompanied by flashing red lights overtook the sound of the gyrating helicopter blades and before Zoey could fully comprehend, she was being torn from her seat and she was falling, her arms stretched out to take hold of anything that she could.

xXxX

Ellis' body was ripped to the side, the harness that was securing him straining against his shoulders, bruising his skin. Within mere seconds the screaming the alarms and the flashing lights ceased and the chopper collided with the unforgiving ground. Ellis' head slapped back into the headrest of his seat and though there was padding it was still a painful event that made the young mechanic see stars.

The end of the event was marked by Rochelle's silence, as she was reduced to a hyperventilating mess that was glued to Coach's side while Nick's hands were clenched around the seams of his seat as though the harness itself wouldn't have done the job. The larger male took a deep breath and asked, "Everyone alright?" His deep voice seemed frail.

"Pilot's dead," Nick groused, facing the front of the crushed helicopter.

Ellis reached to release his harness then turned to look for himself. The front of the chopper had been crushed with what seemed to be the back half of a vehicle. Seeing it all, Ellis knew that the incident could have been prevented if they hadn't been flying so low.

"I'm stuck," Nick groused.

Turning his head, Ellis noted that the mechanism that connected the harness had jammed in the midst of the chopper's collision with the ground. He leaned forward to inspect the buckles and nodded his head. "Be happy it actually worked," he mumbled.

Rochelle was standing now, looking shaky and absolutely petrified. "Where's Zoey?"

Ellis' body froze. The fact that she had literally _flew _from the chopper made his stomach jolt into his throat and he suddenly felt quite sick. She was gone. "Gun – where's my gun?"

There was no answer as Coach glanced around the remnants of the chopper. No weapons – the weapons were gone, his wife-to-be was gone. Jumping from the chopper and to the ground, Ellis took in his surroundings. They seemed to be in the midst of a suburban neighborhood, large well built houses stretching as far as the eye could see. He made his way down the sidewalk and took a good turn, trying to see any signs of anything – something that would make him feel at least a little bit better.

"'ey! Don't you leave me here!" Nick was shouting after him, and Ellis could hear Coach tell him that things were going to be just fine, and that they weren't leaving without him. Rochelle was soon at his side, gently touching his arm.

"C'mon, Ellis. We need to help Nick, then we'll find Zoey."

Ellis took a calming breath and then nodded. "Fine," was all he mumbled before he was turning his attention back towards Nick.

xXxX

Zoey emerged from the water coughing and sputtering. When she had first made contact with the water she dreaded the thought of landing in some bog or swamp land but as she opened her eyes she was relieved to find that she was in a swimming pool that appeared to be in someone's backyard. As she gripped the edge of the pool, catching her breath, she surveyed the yard she was in. It seemed to be untouched. No signs of the infected, no corpses or blood.

Hoisting herself from the water she crawled onto the pavement and double-checked the roof of the two-story house. Nothing- no smoker, no ominous figure that would bring about any sort of impending doom. Hesitantly, she tested her limbs, bending and rotating joints and giving everything a good once over before she got to her feet, completely waterlogged.

"Shouldn't have gotten rid of my hoodie," she grumbled, noting the dripping white singlet that was suddenly quite see-through. Still dripping wet she made her way towards the sliding glass door that lead inside. Her first goal was to obtain a weapon, a gun or a fireplace poker. Anything that would work, should she stumble upon any zombified locals.

Once inside, she froze. In the dimly lit room she took note of the words that were scrolled on the wall in dark ink.

_God Forgive Me. _

Close next to that was a mess of words and scribbles, not all of it fully comprehensible.

_I saved them._

_I saved them._

_Daddy loves you._

_I saved them._

Pushing her attention away from the wall she took a slow breath. She had a haunch on how things had happened for this family. The infection broke out, evacuations occurred and the father took it upon himself to make sure that his family didn't turn just like the rest of the population. She found herself lingering towards the stairs, knowing that in most two-story homes bedrooms were located on the top floor. Her destination was for the parent's room.

"_If a man has a gun there is bound to be at least one near the bed," _Bill had said. "_A man's gotta protect his family."_

Nearing the stairs she squinted through the shadows at the wall as a long, dark smear traveled from the top of the staircase to the bottom, and she grimaced. Four, long crimson marks marring the otherwise clean surface. Holding her breath, she moved up the first step, listening for any sounds. Step by step, she made her way to the top floor, and again she paused and listened.

Nothing.

She checked the room closest to the stairs and had to take a moment to get over the initial shock. The room was a mess – a mirror that had been broken had pieces splayed all throughout the floor, the dresser had been over turned and clothes had been strewn from their designated drawer. Blood was spattered on the carpet and walls, the mattress soaked in the now dried substance. In the middle of the bed was the corpse of a woman, a gun clutched in her hand and several stab wounds, her eyes were set wide in terror, gazing up at the ceiling. Taking a step towards the bed, Zoey reached out towards the dead woman, taking the gun from her rigor mortis stiffened fingers.

An image of a woman at a dining table, reaching out for her with a dark kind of hunger in her glassy white eyes flickered to life in the back of her mind and she swallowed - hard.

"I'm sorry," Zoey whispered.

As she turned her back to the bed she bumped into something – someone. A man. Releasing a startled yelp she took a step back, the gun instantly being hidden behind her back. The man before her was tall and well dressed, but there was a look about him that didn't seem right. His eyes were set too deep within his skull, his cheeks a bit too taught and his smile was stretched too tightly.

"It seems we have a visitor, honey," he murmured, his voice hoarse. He took another step forward and Zoey felt her legs move up against the bed as she tried to take a step back. "Have you introduced her to the kids?"

He was met with silence as his eyes drifted over Zoey, taking in her wet appearance. The overstretched smile stretched wider, pulling the skin in his cheeks taught, making his eyes wide and menacing. When he was met with silence he reached out and grabbed Zoey's wrist. "You will love the girls," he told her, and with an unexpected strength she was being yanked from the room and then dragged down the hallway. "We will be having dinner soon, I will set an extra plate just for you."

The door at the far end of the hallway was opened and then Zoey was being pushed inside. A pungent, nauseating scent assaulted her senses as the door was opened, and before she could give much of a fight back, she was being pushed inside the pink bedroom. "Have fun, girls…" the door closed behind her. It didn't take her eyes long to adjust to the bedroom's dim lighting.

_It looks like a unicorn threw up in here…_

Rainbows, pinks and purples and a number of floral colors decorated the room, on top of a plethora of Barbie dolls and My Little Pony figurines. Eventually, her eyes drifted to the open closet and it was there that she found the two children. Clutching one another, eyes clenched shut and several stab blotted their chests and neck. Red curls were matted to colorless skin and Zoey couldn't prevent the tears that welled in her eyes. He killed them – they could have been immune, like him.

"Oh God…"

Turning her back to the closet she pushed the bedroom door back open and moved into the hallway, checking the magazine of the pistol she noticed that there were only two bullets missing from the gun. Moving at a jog she made her way towards the stairs, and once she reached the bottom she was met by the man, a bloodied knife in his hand.

"You can't leave, I was just finishing supper"

Zoey lifted the pistol and aimed towards the man, making sure he kept his distance. "Move." her voice wavered.

"You can't leave," his eyes lingered again, down her chest and the length of her body. Zoey flicked the safety off and raised the gun.

"Back up."

The man didn't move, and Zoey took a step forward. "Back up!"

When he took that small step back she moved around him, taking careful side steps and keeping her eyes – and the gun – trained on him. She only had to shoot one person who wasn't infected, and she didn't want to do it again. There was no way he could be in his right mind. When she neared the door he made a move, lifting his knife in a swift motion and Zoey reacted, her finger squeezing the trigger.

_Remember when I would sneak you into those zombie movies? _

With frantic breaths, Zoey spun and opened the door before running out into the street.

xXxX

Ellis flinched at the sound of gunfire, lifting his head from the buckle that still held the conman to his seat. He glanced around the empty road for a moment before he set back to work. Sure, the streets were empty but that gave the group all the more reason to be on edge. Something had managed to throw the ass-end of a vehicle at a helicopter. He didn't want to be around to come in to contact with such a creature – Tank or no.

"C'mon Ellis, hurry up," Nick urged. Ellis nodded, still toying with the mechanism.

Coach and Rochelle stood just outside the chopper, keeping watch. The large dark skinned man had found a decent sized shovel, which he was currently holding close by in case any sort of disaster decided to occur in the midst of their troubles. Rochelle peaked back in just as the buckle released and Nick got to his feet.

"Gun fire," she said softly, and then pointed. "Sounded like it was coming from that direction."

For a moment there was only silence until Coach moving forward, lowering his shovel. "Zoey!"

Nick and Ellis both looked up when the name was mentioned and soon Ellis was moving from the chopper and into the street watching as the girl went from a fast walk to a run once she saw the group huddled near the helicopter. Ellis jogged out towards her at a few paces to meet the girl, and as soon as she was close enough, he reached out for her. She was wet – dripping and her eyes dewy, a few loose tears lingering along the curve of her chin.

"Zoey-?"

She shook her head, trying to dry her face as Rochelle moved to stand beside him. "Zoey, honey, what's wrong?"

"He killed them."

"Who…?"

"He killed his wife, and his daughters and-and he wasn't sick. They could have been immune and he killed them." Her voice wavered and Ellis could hear the strain as she tried to regain control.

"Where?" It was Coach who asked.

"The man!"

"Where is he, baby girl?"

Ellis felt the College Student shudder under his hands. "I…"

It was Nick that picked up the slack, giving Ellis a small push off to the side, severing the contact that the Mechanic had with his troubled soon-to-be wife. He gripped Zoey's shoulders, lowering his torso to align their eyes

"Shit happens, Zoey. Infected or not, he would have died eventually."

"But-"

"Now let's go."

Zoey watched the Conman with a rather pitiful look as he turned his back to her. "We need to find some place safe – at least until we find out where we are."

Rochelle gave a nod in agreement, reaching out and placing her hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "He's right, sweetheart. Come on." As the group collectively began their march down the block Ellis took the opportunity to reach out and pull Zoey towards him.

"I'm glad yer okay," he said gently, and as Zoey leaned into his brief embrace he allowed his lips to brush over her forehead. It was nothing intimate, by any means, but a simple gesture to show that he cared.

She gave him a small push, "I'm getting you wet." Her voice had lost its fragile whisper and was returning to the confident hardness that he was more familiar with. Ellis frowned, knowing full well that bottling up emotions – especially for a female – was hazardous and would eventually lead to an emotional explosion complete with shouting, tears, and even more shouting. Despite this knowledge he let the subject rest as he gave her a smile.

"I'm not concerned about it," he muttered, his eyes sweeping over her chest, getting a good eyeful thanks to a very wet singlet. Her bra was black, lacy.

"Hey Nick? Would you give her yer jacket?"

Nick glanced back from his spot in front of the group. "Why?"

"She's uh…"

It seemed that after the request Zoey remembered her state of dress and she cleared her throat. "I fell into a pool."

Rochelle snorted, glancing back as well. "Now _that _is what I call luck!" The older woman than reached out, hitting Nick's shoulder. "Give her your jacket, Suite. She needs it."

"What? N-"

Coach cleared his throat, the shovel still clutched in his hands.

"Alright, alright… Shit…"

The jacket was passed back from person to person until eventually, Zoey was putting the jacket over her somewhat exposed torso. Ellis sent her a sideways glance and nodded his approval. As much as he would enjoy getting an eyeful of his intended, now was not the time or the place. It would be dark soon, and they still had to find a place to stay for the night.

And it was as a distant scream echoed throughout the rows of houses that Ellis got the feeling that it was going to be a very, very long night.


	3. The Neighborhood

**Edited/Rewritten 11/10/12**

**XXX**

For the first time in several weeks, Zoey was able to take a hot shower. Knowing that there was a number of people that were moving in behind her, she finished her business in record time; washing her hair and shaving. _Thank God I don't feel like a yeti anymore. _Her clothes were washed and dried and smelled so wonderfully clean – though her shirt was still something to be desired as it was still horribly stained and close to falling apart.

"Their daughter was close to your size," Rochelle told her, gesturing to the hallway where the girl's room resigned. "You can get a different shirt."

"Are you kidding?" Zoey laughed as she sat down, marveling over how different her legs felt as they rubbed against her jeans. "I can't just get rid of my apocalypse clothes – that would be like washing the magic out of that magic pair of socks, ya know?"

Rochelle chuckled, crossing her arms as she leaned back into the cushy couch. "And what happens when that shirt falls apart?"

"I run around topless."

The house they had set themselves up in was spacious single-story home, which was selected due to the overall lack of windows. Bookshelves and entertainment centers were shoved in front of any windows in the front room while beds were over turned and doors were locked to prevent unexpected visitors from gaining easy access. They had agreed to leaving most of the lights and electronics off so they could avoid attracting too much attention but when the two females saw that clean shower – and Nick spotted a perfectly good washer and dryer – they decided to bend the rules, just a little bit.

Zoey took a seat and Rochelle leaned over, nudging her arm lightly as she whispered, "I think them boys would like that a bit too much."

"Bra or bikini top then… And then I can wear Daisy Dukes, and a cowboy hat… Get some kind of sword…"

Rochelle's eyebrows quirked curiously.

"Videogame."

"Oooh."

Nick sauntered into the room moments later, his hair combed and sleeked back, his once dirtied suit clean, pressed, patched and crisp. It would seem that the conman had searched the home for an ironing board, the iron and the mother lode of starch – and it would explain where the man ran off to after he had taken his shower. Zoey whistled as the he took a seat in a recliner that was pushed against one of the barricaded windows. "Lookin' snazzy, Nick."

The conman smiled for a moment and then adjusted his collar. "Took a little longer than I expected," he said.

The three elapsed into a comfortable silence only moments before Coach was making his way from the kitchen, his shirt clean and the stubble that had been growing on his chin shaved off. He pressed his broad shoulder to the door jam and crossed his arms. "They had a few things in the freezer that are thawin'. Some bread, hot dogs-"

"Any _real _food?" Nick leaned forward in the chair, eyebrows raised.

"Well, there are a few steaks and some chicken, but-"

Suite started to snap his fingers, gesturing to the two women. "One of you – one of you knows how to cook right? Please tell me that one of you can cook."

Rochelle crossed her arms almost instantly, her eyebrows raising as she leaned back further into the couch. "What makes you think that we can cook?"

"You're women!" Nick said, almost bitterly.

Zoey smiled. "A woman's place is in the kitchen."

The older woman's eyes widened as she leaned from Zoey, examining her with bewilderment. Zoey froze as she noticed Rochelle's reaction, and she instantly cleared her throat. "That was a joke. Like, uh… Why did the woman cross the road?"

No answer.

"It doesn't matter – why was she out of the kitchen in the first place?"

"_Giiiiirl_-"

The College Student hopped to her feet, sighing. "Jokes – just jokes! All of that aside, I will take a crack at cooking them. It can't be that hard, right?"

It was then that Ellis rushed into the room, trying the arms of his jumpsuit around his waist, his shirt tossed over his shoulder. "No, no, no! I will do it, I will. We can do chicken fried steak, and gravy, and eggs!"

"Eggs might have gone bad."

There was a moment of silence as Ellis jogged towards the kitchen he vanished from view, wringing his t-shirt in his hands. A couple of seconds ticked by and then an ecstatic whoop of happiness filtered into the room. "Oh it's on!"

Rochelle slid to her feet. "He is going to make a ton of noise beating the meat-"

"Giggity."

The older woman slowly turned her head towards Zoey, eyebrows raised. Zoey snickered, raising her hands in surrender. "You totally walked into that! You could have said 'tenderizing' or-"

"… I'm gonna go help him…" She quickly left the room.

Overall, the entire neighborhood seemed empty – abandoned – and aside from the strange man everything seemed rather normal. There wasn't any cosmetic damage to any of the houses, no fires, no corpses, no crashed cars.

Nick broke the silence, "So y'think they have a map or something?"

"Doubtful," was all Coach grunted as he lowered onto the other end of the couch. "How many people actually have a map in their home? Everything is google and GPS and all that,"

Zoey got to her feet, giving her limbs a good stretch. "I bet we can find a computer, or a cell phone." She gave Coach and Nick a quick smile as she walked from the living room and into the hallway, making her way towards the girl's bedroom.

xXxX

After the meat had been tenderized – something that Rochelle had managed to do in near-silence – Ellis breaded the meat and began the cooking process, feeling rather cheery as he worked on cooking the group's meal. After days of eating nothing but junk, they were finally going have actual food! Jabbing a fork into one end of the searing meat Ellis flipped it onto its uncooked side. "So how are we making the gravy, Ell?"

"Gonna hafta do without – mama never let me in on the recipe," Ellis said as he went about preparing the next steak to hit the pan. He took a glance towards Rochelle and he gave a smile. "So you really don' know how to cook?"

"Does toast count?" The woman smiled.

"No…"

"Then I don't know how to cook!" she said it on a smile died rather quickly. "I always wanted to learn though. Actually learn. Soul food and all that, ya know?"

Ellis smiled, transferring the finished steak over to the plate and then tossing the next steak on the pan. "Oh I know," he mumbled, feeling his mouth beginning to water. "Maybe, when all of this is over, you will be able to learn. Hell, maybe I'll teach ya a thing or two!"

Rochelle offered a knowing smile as she got another plate down from the cabinet. "You know, for some ladies, man that can cook? It's a bit of a turn on."

A smile, a smile that was shy yet quite proud and vibrant, formed onto Ellis' lips as he flipped the steak. So she saw through his idea after all. Ellis' cooking abilities were what set him apart from the rest of the would-be competition. While most males stuck with, what was assumed to be, man's territory Ellis ventured into the woman's house and dominated. He could be that guy who fixed the romantic meals, the breakfast in bed and bring the food that would serve as the meal for the quite night at home. "So you want to woo Zoey through your cooking?"

"Not so loud, Ro," Ellis mumbled, giving her a meaningful glance as the next steak hit the pan. "It's worth a shot, right? I can be a man's man with the cars and all that but I could be the lady's man too. So long as she don't ask me to get a minivan, I think we will be just fine."

As he watched the steak sizzle in the pan, his mind wondered. They would be fine if they would be able to make it through all of this mess – they would be fine if she didn't run off, or get thrown from the helicopter. He frowned, closing his eyes. He didn't like the idea of being separated from her and not knowing where she was. _I will make sure that it doesn't happen again._

_The attachment that he felt towards her was somewhat uncalled for, but with the conditions they were surrounded by made the relationship accelerate naturally. One moment they were safe and happy and the next everyone was having near death experiences. When Rochelle's hand touched his shoulder, Ellis turned to glance her way. She was smiling softly and the expression reached her eyes. As her nails scratched at his back, and she bumped his hip with her own, she sighed._

_"She'll be lucky to have you, Hillbilly."_

xXxX

Zoey was quite pleased to find that the desktop in the girl's bedroom was still on, and after a couple of minutes of getting the computer to emerge from hibernation she found the page was left on Google Maps. Zoey leaned back in the computer chair and smiled up at the ceiling. "Thank you," she told no one in particular then straightened so she could study the image on the screen. The sidebar that was left up held all of the information that Zoey needed. They were in Baton Rouge, and according to the route that was left the family's destination had been North, the ending point being Arkansas. Frowning, Zoey tilted her head. There wasn't any evacuation points that way – or at least there wasn't when Bill, Louis and Francis had made their way South. The Military had made it a point to keep moving the evacuation points South and this family was headed North.

_The infection did seem to get worse the further South we went_, Zoey thought, tapping her fingers over the desk. _It went from the Smoker, the Boomer, and the Hunter… And then there were… Things that spit acid, the charger._

Maybe the family had the right idea…

The road they took went from Baton Rouge to Lafayette Louisiana, and from there they could follow the highway North, and eventually cross over into Northern Texas – maybe into less populated areas. Of course she would have to run this idea by her companions and then there would be trying to direct Louis and Francis to where she was going. The moment of wishful thinking died instantly. Zoey closed her eyes, willing herself not to get too upset, too caught up with the day's events but the thought of never seeing Louis and Francis again was enough to thoroughly upset her. Losing Bill was bad enough and now…

No. She shoved herself to her feet. What would Bill say…?

..

_Within the abandoned gun store, Zoey found herself securely locked within the confines of a cleaning closet. Everything had happened so fast, one moment she was speaking with the seemingly sickly man at the front desk, trying to get him to sell her a proper weapon and then the man had suddenly hunched forward and released the contents of his stomach, his body heaving with each projection of bile. Watching, Zoey could only step back and cover her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes watering as she felt her stomach churn. _Oh God_… _

_Once the man was through he wiped his mouth and straightened, eyes narrowing into sharp slits before he sprang into action. Moving from behind the counter the man grabbed her arm and dragged the girl towards the closet. "It's for your own safety," he had said, and then she was thrown into darkness once the door was closed behind her. Whirling around she tried to leave but found the door locked…_

_What seemed like hours later, Zoey was still trying to get out…_

_Slamming her fists against the door, Zoey continued to scream and shout for help. She didn't know where the man went, if he was still manning the front of the store or if maybe he decided to leave, all she knew was that she was trapped in the midst of a viral outbreak that threatened to annihilate the world's populace. The man had gotten sick – something that the news had specifically highlighted as one of the beginning symptoms before someone turned. "Let me out!" she kicked at the door now, giving her aching hands a moment of rest. _

_Tears filled her eyes but she refused to let them fall. _

_She wasn't going to die here - she wasn't going to be stuck in some fucking closet while there was a zombie outbreak – no way! Though, as she fought her darkening thoughts with her fists and feet she couldn't remove the feeling of complete dread that began to impede on whatever positive ideas that were left within her._

_No… No…!_

_Another scream of absolute desperation fueled her body as she threw everything she had into the door. First, her body vaulted into the hard wood, followed by her feet and hands. She suddenly let out a cry as pain lanced through her wrist. Cradling the hurt appendage to her chest she dropped into the corner of the gun store's closet and waited… _

_It seemed like hours had gone by before she heard footsteps and she let out a tired yell for help. _

_When the door suddenly opened, Zoey gasped and pitched herself forward and out of the closet, relief finally flooding over her. "Th-thank you," she murmured, still crouched low on the ground, holding her hurt wrist and doing her best to keep more tears at bay._

_Thankful – she was so thankful. _

"_Enough of that," came the firm, yet weathered voice. Looking up she saw an older man wearing a green beret. "Cryin' like that isn't going to make it better." His gaze suddenly dropped towards her bum wrist and he sighed. "Now come here and let me see that."_

…

"Get your shit together, Zoey," she ordered herself. "You've done enough crying today."

There was a soft sound from the hallway and the door creaked open, Coach giving her a wide, excited smile. "Dinner is ready, honey."

"Yeah, okay…"

xXxX

Zoey, Ellis noticed, hadn't eaten all of her meal and though he was somewhat hurt he understood her reasoning. Once she pushed the plate away she placed her hand over her stomach and sighed, leaving half of a steak on her plate. He reached out for the remainder but was too slow as Coach's hand shot out and grabbed the plate before he could get close. "You done with this, baby?"

"Yeah, go for it…"

Nick sighed, scooting his empty plate away from him as he leaned back. "That really wasn't all that bad – I am surprised."

Ellis feigned hurt, grasping at his chest and frowning. "Nick, c'mon now…"

He shrugged. "I'm just saying."

"Zoe, you should eat the rest of that," Rochelle said as she gestured to the remains that Coach had yet to devour. "It's not healthy, not eating-"

"I know… I just haven't really eaten an actual meal in so long that when I do eat something I don't feel well," she frowned but then she shrugged. "As soon as all of this is over and done with, I am going to eat my own weight in Ben and Jerry's." Ellis smiled at her from across the table, pushing his empty plate to the center.

"So what… What are we gonna do? What's the plan?"

"North," Nick said easily. "There isn't anything for us down here."

"What if we stuck to the coast and made our way over to-"

Nick cut Coach off, shaking his head. "There isn't shit down here, and everyone knows it. We need to get out of here. This isn't getting better – what are they going to do? Get all of the remaining people on a cruise ship until everything just starts over?"

"Sounds better than running around and hoping to find a safe place," Rochelle grumbled.

Ellis shook his head. "Nah, there ain't no way we would be able to get that far going North," he crossed his arms. "Getting out of here without going through any swamp is going to be…"

"Actually," Zoey cleared her throat. "I'm with Nick. Me, Bill, Francis and Louis started up North and made our way down here. We didn't have half of the things that are down here. Maybe going North will… Maybe it will get better."

Frowning, Ellis argued, "But how would we get there? It's nothin' but swamp and more swamp and even then, how far North? There is a slim chance we'll get by what Mountains that are there."

"We can find a car… From here we can go to Lafayette, then Texas and-"

"We will need a car if we plan on crossin' the Atchafalaya. That's one uh," Ellis shook his head as he tried to think. "It's one of the largest bridges in the world, I think."

"The eighth," Rochelle supplied.

Ellis licked his lips, his eyebrows furrowing. The eighth largest bridge in the world, stretching over nothing but swamp and other places just as inhabitable; but if they got over the bridge then really, it shouldn't be that difficult making their way further North. Coach frowned, finishing off the last of Zoey's steak. "I don't-"

There was a loud thud that came from the space above them, causing their heads to whip up towards the ceiling in almost perfect unison. Rochelle reaching for her fork while Nick moved to his feet, hands reaching for the none-existent weapon that would be at his waist. "There isn't a… There isn't an upstairs, is there?" Ellis asked, glancing at the group of startled individuals.

"No. Not even an Attic," Coach murmured.

Another thud and all heads twisted to view another point on the ceiling. "So it's on the roof," Nick mumbled. "So long as we stay-" Another loud noise, though this time it was accompanied by splintering wood. Coach began to usher the ladies into the living room. "Go, go now. Hurry up."

Ellis moved in quickly after them, Nick and Coach moving in after. Once the group had been rallied into the living room the three men began to block off the doorway with the spare furniture that wasn't blocking off the remaining doors and windows. "What…What was that?" Rochelle whispered just as another loud crash came from the kitchen.

Shoving a small ottoman in front of the rest of the furniture that blocked the door, Ellis took a few steps back. "Coulda been a tank." He too was whispering, though he didn't really know why – the thing knew they were there, it was just a matter of time. They hadn't found many useful weapons in the house, mostly cutting knives and some mace in the girl's room. There was no axes, no beer bottles to make any of the team's favored cocktails. They did find knitting needles, a small ukulele and a rather large raw hide that could have only belonged to an over-sized dog. Those things, however, were essentially useless and thus, were discarded. Now they were down to one pistol, with a full clip and then enough bullets for another half of a clip. One meat cleaver, one cast-iron skillet, a shovel and a fireplace poker.

The sound of shattering glass brought Ellis' attention towards the hallway, noticing that the weapons were being grabbed and he was passed the fire poker. More sounds on the roof, followed by another crash from the kitchen.

"We need to get out of here!" Nick hissed, waving the meat cleaver at the barricaded front door.

Rochelle shook her head, eyes wide as she cradled the skillet in her hands. "Are you kidding me? What else is outside?" she was still whispering, as if the absence of her voice would prevent the impending chaos.

Nick gestured for Coach to help him push the furniture away from the door. "I don't give a damn. They have already blocked us into one room and whatever is on the roof? Yeah, I don't want that fucker blocking me in here."

Reaching out to Rochelle, who seemed to be close to a panic attack, Ellis offered a fleeting smile. "We'll be okay, alright Ro? We get out of here, we find a car and then we drive outta here! North – right?"

Nick and Coach where quickly working, shoving the couch away from the door while Zoey checked the pistol, sliding the clip out and checking her ammunition before it was clicked back into place and the safety was flicked off. Rochelle nodded though it was hesitant – scared. It was at that moment that Zoey seemed to appear at the older woman's side, smiling a wide and genuine smile. "You got this far, right?"

Rochelle nodded. "I just… Once we got the sense of normalcy it's just torn away."

Zoey laughed despite the chaos around them, the sounds of the splintering wood, the loud screeching in the kitchen, the sounds of shattering glass. "It's something that we are all going to have to get used to." She glanced at Ellis and then back to Rochelle. "Now let's go!"

As if on cue the front door was thrown open and Nick, Coach and Zoey made their way outside, Zoey pivoting quickly on her feet to check the roof. "Come on!" Nick yelled. Rochelle sighed, looking up at Ellis who was patiently – _C'mon and get it together, we need to goooo! _– for Rochelle to head out first. Nick looked back inside. "Move it! Now!"

Finally rooted from her spot as the barricaded door was finally splintered into a number of pieces, Rochelle ran out into the yard with the group, leaving Ellis to take the rear as they began to move into the darkened street. They moved in a perfect group in complete silence, jogging across the street before the ducked down into the shadows, Zoey near the front with the pistol, followed by Nick and Coach, then Rochelle and finally Nick who would occasionally spin around and check their back before running to catch up. "Alright, we need to find a car," Nick whispered. Ellis nodded though his eyes were glued on the house that they had just left, trying to pick out any humanoid figure.

Coach pointed far down the block. "Two-car garage. If they made an evac then they would probably be taking one car, right?"

"Might as well give it a shot," Ellis nodded.

"Right. Let's move," Coach ordered, then gestured for Zoey to make the move but she shook her head.

"No, that way is clear – you guys go ahead and I will take the back."

Ellis shook his head. "Zoey-"

She turned her head towards him and he was surprised with the determination that reflected in them. They were narrow, hard and knowing. "What are you going to when they come out of there?" He took a breath to speak but merely frowned, not having a valid answer. "Now go."

Together, they formed their tight group and began to make their way down the street. Ellis shifted into the center of the group, glancing back at Zoey every few moments to make sure that she was keeping up. Whenever he got the chance he would look around at the surrounding roof tops, expecting a tank to be standing on top of one of them. He couldn't think what else would be so bent on breaking through the ceiling, yet at the same time he had never seen a tank do anything like break through a roof top. Sure, he had seen the thing tear slabs of asphalt from the road and literally hurl them several feet into the air…

"Doors open," Coach whispered before he was pulling Rochelle into the hopefully empty home. Nick moved in after them, hitting Ellis' shoulder to get him to follow.

"Zoe, c'mon!"

Once the five had made it to the garage they were greeted with a lone vehicle, a weathered Dodge Stratus sat in the dark room and Ellis took it upon himself to assess the vehicle. "Alright, it should be relatively easy to start without the keys." He looked through the window for a moment, looking around the interior before he lifted his weapon and slammed it down into the glass. Upon the glass shattering into the driver's seat the sound of a shrill alarm filled the garage.

xXxX

Zoey's entire body – her entire being – froze at the sound of the alarm. She didn't move to cover her ears or, at least, not immediately. While Ellis went straight into action she merely stood, the pistol in her hand, her eyes wide as she tried to figure out what to do. Did she filter into the car like Coach and Rochelle and wait? As Nick stood by the passenger side door he was shouting over the noise, his eyes closed as he tried to get his voice to project over the sound of the alarm. Slowly, her head turned away from him and towards the garage door controls.

Making her way towards the panel, she waited and ignored Nick's frantic hand motions. They needed to get out, and this was the going to be the easiest way. Leaving the door open, Nick put one of his feet into the back seat, waiting for a few moments. When the alarm didn't cut, but the smell of exhaust caught her attention, Zoey hit the button to open the garage door. Bolting towards the car she got into the passenger seat, noting several pairs of legs that were shuffling around the opening of the garage.

"Go!" Coach shouted.

Ellis straightened in the seat, the alarm still blaring as he shifted the car into drive and stepped on the gas. The vehicle vaulted forward, scraping against the underside of the still rising garage door before colliding with the bodies of a few gathered infected. "Down the road! Left!" Nick shouted over the still blaring alarm. Ellis followed the instructions, narrowly avoiding a large figure that was emerging from the house that they had evacuated earlier. "What in the hell was tha-?"

The breaks screamed and Ellis turned the wheel sharply, letting out a startled yell as a _refrigerator_ was thrown in the car's path. Punching down the gas to retain their momentum, Ellis sped out of the block, trying to navigate his way out of the once quiet neighborhood. Zoey gripped the handle above the passenger seat window, eyes wide as she held on for dear life.

"The Alarm!" Rochelle screeched as another hard turn was forced onto the poor vehicle.

Ellis glanced over at Zoey before reaching under the wheel to pull out the wires. He reached out, hitting her shoulder lightly before gesturing to the wires. "… Green…" was all she heard through his clenched teeth as he focused on the road. "Green wire! Pull it!" Zoey leaned over towards him, trying to get a good glance at the wiring. As she leaned over further, she placed her hand on the center console and ducked her head down.

"I don't –!" The car jolted quite suddenly and Zoey's hands fell from the console that separated her from Ellis' lap, her shoulder dropping down in between his legs, her head on his thigh. She went stiff for only a moment before she realized that before her, at eye level, was the green wire. Reaching out towards the wire she gave it a good yank and the sounds of the alarm elapsed into the sounds of the engine. Again, while Zoey was trying to right herself the car jolted as if Ellis had jumped a curb and then there was the sound of screeching tires. Grabbing onto Ellis' leg, Zoey braced herself as the car came to a complete halt.

"Dear God," Coach whispered from the back seat.

Rochelle gasped softly. "What… What is that in its hand?"

"Ro, I think that _is _its hand," Ellis said slowly. Zoey watched as Ellis shifted the car into reverse.

"… Ellis…"

Zoey began to slide herself out from Ellis' lap, her eyes straining to see over the top of the dash but it was as the car darted backward did she see a large figure, arms above his head and its hand was large, bulbous and unproportionate, At the quick glance she was given, it appeared that the infected was holding a large boulder in his hand, rising it high above his head to smash the vehicle. A hard crank of the wheel pivoted the vehicle to the side, Zoey's body crumpling into Ellis' lap and against the driver's side door.

"Dammit Ellis! GO!" Nick shouted as the young mechanic fumbled with the gear shift. Once in drive, Zoey watched as Ellis' foot slammed down onto the gas. The car surged forward with a fit of noise and then they were speeding out of the neighborhood. Finally driving at a steady pace, Zoey moved her hands down onto the seat between Ellis' legs and pushed herself out from under his arms.

"What the fuck happened?" she blurted, turning in her seat to get a good look at the figure that had almost smashed the car. It was following, that was a definite but it was far behind and possibly even giving up on the chase.

Nick, who was also twisted to look in the back window, glanced her way briefly. "I do believe that we just met the thing that broke through the roof."

xXxX

If it had been any other occasion, like a fun road trip or a fun drive out of town, Ellis would have taken a deep interest in Zoey being between his knees, her body stretched across his lap. He would have brushed his fingers through her hair, rubbed soft circles along her scalp and the back of her neck. He would have dragged his hand from her upper back, down her spine and along the curve of her backside, quietly urging her as he controlled the vehicle. But as he managed to avoid the boulder-fisted infected and her body was shoved even further into his seat, he had no chance to even acknowledge the fact she was even there.

As she began to right herself and try to get back into her seat her cheek brushed against his crotch and her breasts pressed into his thigh there was nothing he could do. He couldn't touch her like he would if this were any other occasion. He had to have his full attention on the road, scanning the houses and the buildings, the rear view mirror and the road immediately ahead of him and whatever was down the block. He had to focus on everything but Zoey as they sped from the neighborhood and he found himself angry…

Angry at the situation, angry at the circumstances.

Once they hit the highway he allowed his mind to drift over how everything that had happened had lead up to this point. If the virus hadn't appeared, if the man with the green beret hadn't made his sacrifice, there was a distinct possibility that Ellis would have never met Zoey in the first place. On one side, he was happy to have met the people that he did. They were good people – people that he would have easily gotten along with even without the threat of the virus. He had met Zoey, got to drive Jimmy Gibbs Jr.'s car! But everything put together? It upset him very deeply.

"Ellis?"

He turned his head and looked towards Zoey, sitting in the passenger seat. Looking back to the road, he hummed his response. "Mm?"

"You okay?"

He offered her a soft smile. "Just thinkin'."

It was no longer just about Zoey and his missed opportunities at pursuing her sexually (hell, if is mama knew that he was aiming for _anything_ less than innocent with the girl she would have backhanded him), intimately or casually. No, it was something deeper than that, things stretching to lost innocence, unbiased monsters that attached to kill, not to eat or survive. Everything – all of it – it wasn't fair.

xXxX

_And that's all I got… _

_I was going to do a blip on what Francis and Louis are up to… But every time I tried to do it, it just wasn't working for me._

_Hope you enjoyed your actionless action._


	4. The Causeway

"I hate boats."

Louis sighed as he eased the small motorboat through the debris that filled the river way. He had listened to the Biker's complaining for the past few days and though despite the fact that he dealt with the bickering for nearly a full month but it was bearable with two other people. Zoey would usually come up with a cheeky come back and together they would throw jabs at each other, passing the time in an affective and amusing manner. They had been steadily making their way towards New Orleans, just as Zoey's messages had said and they eventually decided that sticking to the water would be the best.

"_As far as we know, they can't swim,_" Bill had said.

"I know you hate boats." Louis replied distantly as he steered around a large chunk of rubble in the middle of the waterway. Really, what else could he say? He never had a problem with boats. He didn't hate very many things either. Sure, he hated a healthy amount of things just like everyone else but he didn't hate nearly as many things as Francis did. Francis turned his attention away from the distant point that he had been looking at.

"You know I hate boats? That's all you got to say?"

Louis nodded, giving the man a pointed look. "Yep, that is all I have got to say."

The biker frowned before he dropped his head for a moment and sighed. "I miss Zoey," he groused. "And Bill. Goddamn, I miss that ol' bastard."

Louis watched Francis carefully. He began to wonder if the guy who he had personally pegged as the strongest of the group was going to crack due to all of the sudden changes. First Bill and then, while they were trying to get their shit together, Zoey. "We'll get her back, man."

"Fuckin' better. I ain't going to no islan-"

"Hey man." Louis leaned forward, eyes set one what appeared to be pink fabric that was tied to some fencing that was hanging off of the cement walkway. The place had obviously been an evacuation point with a landing zone for a helicopter.

"And see there? That's not right, you have to let someone _finish _their own insult before making one."

"No, I - look!"

"Now yer just bein' rude," the biker snapped. It was all in good fun, sure, but these things had their protocols!

"Look!"

Rolling his eyes in a very pointed fashion, Francis turned his attention towards the fencing and he paused. He squinted for a moment and then his eyes widened, a smile stretching over his face. "Is that?"

"Looks like-"

"Shit man! Steer us over there."

Louis turned the boat towards the cement walkway as he decreased the speed of the boat. Francis reached forward and grabbed onto the outer lining of the fencing before standing. Reaching towards the knot of pink fabric he sighed softly. "It is. It's gotta be." Louis scoped the rest of the area, the debris that remained from the bridge blocked a good expanse of the bridge but in the midst of the rubble, caught on the metal framework that was jutting out of the water, was another slip of stained fabric.

"Look man, there's another!"

Francis flopped back down onto the bench, shoving off from the walkway. "This is good!"

"Yes, it's very good."

"We can get Zoey from that Hillbilly and then we can go find our island!"

Louis smiled, because what the biker did not say was that he hated Hillbillies and he hated Islands and instead of bringing that to Francis' attention he decided to let him have his moment of optimism.

**xXxX**

It didn't take long for Zoey to catch on to the fact that they were not headed North at all; but they were headed towards New Orleans, to the place where Zoey had specified in all of her messages to Louis and Francis. For a very brief, fleeting moment the girl got irritated with the fact that they weren't going North but South but then she thought of her friends and she felt an overwhelming amount of gratitude for Ellis' decision. Maybe she would end up following through with Bill's plan after all; perhaps they would find that island and hold out for a while. Smiling, she leaned back in her seat, glancing over at the mechanic from Savannah Georiga.

"Thank you."

Ellis looked her way for a moment, eyebrows furrowed. "What… What for?"

She tilted her head back in a brief gesture. "That last road sign? New Orleans?"

Eyes on the road, Zoey caught half of the smile that made its way on to his lips. He was pleased with himself, that much she could see, but there was something in his eyes that gave a good emphasis to what he was really feeling. "I mean it, Ellis. Thank you."

Ellis gave her a warm smile, licking his lips as he shifted into the left lane to avoid a series of abandoned vehicles. "You've been tellin' 'em that we're headed to New Orleans. Might as well follow through and see if we can't pick them up right? Hell, we might even find an evacuation point, right?"

Zoey's smile fell almost instantly. There was absolutely no way in hell that she would ever follow through with another evacuation point. Part of her was quite happy with the fact that the helicopter had crashed when it did as she remembered being evacuated from the farm house, remembered the doctors and their plans. Perhaps she should tell him what had happened, what her plans were after she had found her friends. "I don't think that…"

He turned to look at her, away from the road.

"Louis, Francis and me aren't going to go through with an evacuation, Ellis."

There. She'd said it. They would get to New Orleans and then she would be headed off to the Florida Keys with Louis and Francis – though she really hoped that she could persuade them into going up North as well. It wasn't that she was completely against hiding out on an island but it was just so isolated, so out of the way. They needed food, they needed water, they needed the survival skills and she wasn't sure that they all had what it took to live under such conditions.

A quick glance at the road and he was back to looking at her – startled. "What do you… Why?"

She sighed, looking down at her lap. Maybe she should have kept her mouth shut. "The last evacuation we were a part of… it wasn't everything that we had thought it was going to be. It wasn't a military base with all of the safeties and the luxuries that we thought it was going to have. They did tests and…" Feeling uncomfortable and upset, Zoey settled giving the general gist her story. "I am _never _going to be taken to another military base. Not again – not after last time."

"Tell me about it," Ellis urged quietly.

Zoey shook her head, biting hard on her lower lip so that she would keep her mouth shut. She didn't want to talk about it, not any of it. It was still a fresh emotional wound and like all of her emotional wounds, she found that it was better if it was repressed and far from her mind. "I can't."

"Can't or don't want to."

Startled at his reaction she turned to look at him, eyes wide. He wasn't looking at her but was focused on the road though she could tell that he wanted a definite answer. But she couldn't bring herself to tell him. What would she say: We abandoned a mess of people because they weren't one of us? Just tell him why they had left innocent people behind to die?

"_We look out for our own," _Bill had said_._

"Both."

**xXxX**

Ellis was fuming silently as he tried to figure out what she wasn't saying. There had to be something more to it and he knew it, what he couldn't find out was what. He didn't like the fact that she wasn't telling him things that were obviously upsetting her. Over time, it had became his nature to listen to woman troubles and when the woman in question wasn't willing to share, it upset him.

He remembered when he had first started dating and the poor girl had called him one night, crying over something that had happened at school that day. He had brushed it off, saying that he would call her later and when his mom had caught wind of this… That night, wow – that night…

"_You listen to girls when they hurt, do you understand? When they are cryin' and they come to you, you listen and you listen well. I ain't raisin' an insensitive boy – you be a gentleman. You hear? Now you call that girl, you apologize and you listen to everything that she has to say." _

And he did. He called her back and he apologized up and down and he listened to everything; from the soft, and hesitant beginning to the shuddering sobs and the ending sniffles. On other occasions his mother had told him to follow his gut feeling. If he felt that the girl was acting differently, if he felt that something was wrong and she wasn't saying anything he had to make himself open, to let her know that he was there for her. Sometimes, all it took was a hug. Just a good, long hug and the protective walls would crumble but then, other times, it could take more than such a simple gesture. Ellis shot Zoey a quick side-glance as he silently decided that his wife-to-be was definitely in the more difficult category.

Reaching across the center of the car, he brushed his fingers against the top of her hand. "You can talk to me, Zoey." When he received no reply, he grabbed a hold of her hand and simply held it. He didn't move to lace his fingers between hers in an intimate gesture, he simply placed his palm over the back of her hand, his fingers curling and touching her palm. He could feel her entire being grow stiff and rigid but he didn't let go, simply kept his eyes on the road. Occasionally, he would glance into his rear view mirror, and on one occasion he caught Rochelle's eyes though she didn't say a word.

**xXxX**

Their time in the car didn't last too long, maybe a little over an hour before the roadways got too bogged down with other abandoned vehicles. Slowing to a stop near the side of the road, Ellis removed his seatbelt and looked back towards the now fidgeting trio in the backseat. "Gotta walk from here, road looks pretty empty though." Coach groaned in disapproval as the driver's side door opened, the motor still running. Zoey leaned out of the car, reaching down towards the seat and pushing it towards the dash so the other passengers could climb out. "It may be a little ways until we get to the bridge but once we get there we might want to stay there until the morning."

"Definitely," Coach mumbled as he reached into the car and extracted his shovel. "I don't like this traveling at night stuff. It gives me the creeps." He took a couple of steps away from the car, surveying the length of road that was filled with both abandoned and crashed vehicles. With a low whistle, he glanced back at the team. "This should definitely be interesting."

Rochelle, who had been in a state of groggy awareness slumped her shoulders forward, skillet in her hand. "We have to get through _this?_" Really, it was quite the mess. Ellis was on the verge of comparing the situation to a large maze but remained silent. They were going to have to stay close to each other for all of this. If someone took a different route to get around a car or truck and something occurred they would be picked off in a matter of seconds.

Ellis glanced towards Zoey, who still held the pistol in her hands as squinted through the dark at the mess of cars. The only light that was offered to them was the light from the moon – which really wasn't too bright – and the limited reach of the Stratus' headlights. "Waiting on you," Nick mumbled, causing the girl to send him an irritated scowl.

She sighed, "Let's make this quick."

Drifting into the sea of metal, the walk started out being pretty straight forward with the vehicles staying in their own lanes though it really didn't last too long. After the fourth or fifth car in, she was skirting around an over-turned truck that was in the middle of the road, accompanied by other crashed cars. Clearing his throat, Ellis followed Zoey closely, paying no mind to the precautions that the group was taking. "So say that someone from the army was at the bridge and offered us an evacuation. You wouldn't go?"

"Ellis, now isn't the time," Zoey replied as she glanced back at him.

"Is that a no?"

**xXxX**

Not giving him an answer, Zoey picked up her pace in hopes of putting a bit of distance between them and ending the conversation. Sure, they deserved to know about the possibilities that came with following through with a military evacuation but now was definitely not the time or the place to tell them. With longer strides she passed by more cars and soon the toll booth came into view. It had been blocked off by barbed wire fencing by the looks of things. Another cluster of vehicles was getting closer and she resisted the urge to simply start running."Later. Please, just later."

"Why not now?"

Zoey turned quite suddenly next to a vehicle that had been pretty bent up, its body stretching sideways through both lanes of the road. She lowered the gun, her free hand reaching up to rub at her forehead. Behind Ellis, she could see the contour of both Rochelle's and Coach's faces, both of them directed at her while Nick was shaking his head, looking off to the side of the road. "Because we're in the middle of a-" There was the sound of clicking metal and she felt something hard drive into her side, making her jump visibly yet freeze in place.

"Y'can just be droppin' that gun, girly." It was a thick southern drawl that came from the shadows beside her and soon the figure of a man, tall and lean stepped out from the shadow of sideways vehicle. She could smell him, he wreaked of body odor and pennies – copper and something sickeningly musky. Before her, she saw Ellis raise his fire poker and the gun was quickly raised to Zoey's temple. "The rest a'ya best be droppin' all of yer weapons, yeh? Wouldn' want this perdy girl's brains splashed 'bout would we?" She could hear the smile in his voice as Rochelle quickly dropped her skillet, the result ending in a very loud and echoing clang. Coach was quick to follow suit, propping his shovel against the hood of the closest car while Nick and Ellis crouched low and set their weapons on the ground.

Zoey didn't move, still holding the pistol. Would she be able to take him down before he pulled the trigger? Who said that the weapon was loaded anyway? She sent the man a sideways glance, her fingers tightening around her weapon. He was smiling at her, she could see the gleam of his teeth in the night and it sickened her. "Well girly? Why doncha drop it?"

"Why don't you just fuck off," she said maliciously, though her voice came out as a weak whisper, holding none of the strength that she wanted it to.

A low chuckle was the response before the sound abruptly cut off as the man's hand twisted into her pony tail and yanked her head back suddenly, the gun suddenly pointed towards the foursome that was looking on and waiting. Zoey hissed between her teeth, reaching back and holding her scalp.

"Do as he says, baby girl," Coach murmured.

Letting out an audible growl of irritation, Zoey flipped her thumb over the safety of her pistol and then threw it to the ground. She could feel the man's breath drift over her neck as he laughed at her anger – laughed at their situation. Yanking her backwards towards where he had been hiding, he made a gesture. "Alrigh' the lot of ya, straight line now. Head on toward the fence 'n' no funny business."

In single file, with Zoey and the man taking the back, they made their way towards the barbed wire fencing, They made no sounds, made no acts of resistance and didn't stop until they were ordered to do so but it wasn't by the man who still had a good hold of Zoey's hair, it was by another man on the other side of the fence who held a double barrel shotgun and had it trained on the group. "Shit issat a girl?" A flashlight drifted over Rochelle before lingering on down the line before the beam settled on Zoey. "Two! 'Ey!" the man turned, looking towards the toll booths that stretched over the road a couple of feet behind him. "Blue! Barnes brought girls!" Her hair was released and she was shoved into the lineup.

The man moved the fence back, the base of the structure dragging against the asphalt loudly. "Alright, you three," he shined a light in Nick's face, followed by Coach and Ellis' before he made a quick gesture with his gun. "You first, Blue is gonna set y'all up right." A large portly man, who Zoey could only assume was 'Blue' emerged from the shadows though he himself was still a dark silhouette that stood behind the flashlight.

"No funny stuff, boys."

Zoey watched as three of her four friends were escorted past the fence opening and she watched as Rochelle trembled as the man with the double barrel stepped towards her. The end of the gun was aimed at her torso while he took a step forward, grumbling something incoherent due to his thick accent. Reaching out, Zoey found Rochelle's hand and even though the older woman flinched at the contact she grabbed onto her hand and squeezed tightly.

"Fuck, I ain't had a'girl in sucha long time…" The man with the shotgun reached down and adjusted his jeans in a blatant groping motion. A soft, strangled whimper escaped from Rochelle and her grip tightened on Zoey's hand as the man reached out to touch the older woman's body.

With a quick motion, Zoey reached out and slapped at the man's hand, hard enough to make the man recoil for a moment before he hissed and raised the butt of his gun. "You damn-" As he started to throw the gun in a downward motion towards her, Zoey's free hand arched back and she lunged forward for a punch but something hard came into contact with the back of her skull, instantly bringing her to her knees. "'Ey." Holding the back of her aching scalp she slowly looked up, catching the vague outline of a large fist careening towards her face.

**xXxX**

The three men were ushered past the toll booths and Ellis took note of the abandoned tents and another line of fencing and past that was the causeway that stretched over Lake Pontchartrain which would have eventually lead them to New Orleans. A hard jab to his back sent him stumbling forward and even though he caught himself, Nick and Coach reached for him, steadying him with a hand on the shoulder or a pat on the back. The man who could only be identified as Blue told them to stop with a mere grunt before he was approaching the building and opening the door. "Inside," he said, making a quick gesture with his gun. "And don't you be tryin' anything funny now." Marching in a single-file line, Nick took stepped into the building, followed by Coach and Ellis and as soon as they were inside, the door was slammed shut and they were met by complete darkness.

With the loss of his sight, as the windows in the building had been covered with some sort of thick material that blocked all of the light from filtering in through the windows, came the stomach twisting scent of rot and decay and something sickeningly sweet. "Aw, what the _fuck _is that?" Nick hissed. Ellis could picture him reaching up to cover his nose to protect himself from the awful smell. Taking a small step, Ellis' hands reached out blindly to find the wall, sweeping his hands in large side-ways motions until his hips made contact with a – he dropped his hands, feeling paper and pens – desk.

"Can't see nothin' in here," Coach rumbled.

"Door, I got the door." It was Nick and he instantly whirled towards the point where Nick's voice had come from. The sound of a twisting mechanism filled the room for a few rapid heartbeats and then there was a curse. "Locked."

"'Course it's locked," Coach growled. "How are we gonna get outta here?"

"Man I can't even _find _the door," Ellis rasped, his hands still stretched out before him as he shambled about the dark room.

The darkness was filled with sounds of ruffling clothing and timid footsteps and then a voice, loud and shrill filtered in through the walls.

"_Oh God, Zoey! Zoey get up!" _

Ellis felt his blood run cold, his entire body freezing on spot as he stared at the dark space in front of him. Instantly, his mind delved into the worst-case scenario and he pictured those men touching his girls, tearing at clothing and…

"_Please, Zoey! You bastard! You-"_

There was a soft curse and there was a very brief flicker of light before it died, another flicker and then the room was basked in the soft, warm glow that gave everything a rather dim outline. Turning towards the point of light, Ellis turned and saw Nick holding a lighter, his eyes narrowing as he stood before the door. "Double cylinder," he grumbled.

"What?" Coach asked, turning to look after him.

Nick gestured to the door. "The bolt lock is a double. If it were a single we would be able to unlock it from in here and we would be able to get out."

Ellis looked towards the Conman curiously, before asking, "You can pick the lock, Nick?"

"Ellis, you give me two bobby pins and I will get us out of here, easy."

There was a heavy sigh from Coach as they looked around the empty room. "Something tells me that there isn't going to be any bobby pins in here."

It was Nick who turned from the door first. "Might as well take a look."

The small amount of light that came from the single lighter wasn't enough to see all the way across the room so they stayed in a group, being sure to stay in the light and search the drawers in the desk methodically. More pens, a few pushpins and paper clips were placed on the table. In the midst of their search of the desk the lighter went out and Nick cursed. "Give it a second, it's a little hot."

In the darkness, Ellis fumbled with more papers, dropping them onto the table before he was kneeling towards the ground. "Help me find a garbage can or something, we can start a fire in that and-"

"What if it's plastic?" Coach asked, his voice close by.

"Probably not the best idea if it is, let's just see if-"

"Hold on, it's one of those metal ones? It's kinda flimsy but it will last long enough."

The sound of crumpling paper erupted from beside him and Ellis flinched at the sound. It seemed so loud in the darkness and it was only when the lighter flickered back to life did he see where the rubbish bin had been set. He quickly went to work crinkling up paper and tossing it inside, only stepping back when Nick reached out and set the paper on fire. "Here's hoping that we don't die of smoke inhalation," the Conman stated as the room's contents suddenly came to life.

The three began to spread out, though what Ellis saw tucked away in the corner made his entire being freeze. He had found the source of the stench and it seemed to enhance the sick smell once he knew what the smell came from. Tucked in the far corner of the room was a body – a woman. Her clothes were in tatters around her and there was a number of cuts and lacerations over her breasts and hips and her face was contorted and beaten in a bloody mess. "Ugh," a small step back. "Guys I bet… I bet she has some bobby pins."

"Dear God," Coach murmured, his strong voice broken and faltering at the sight.

To Ellis' absolute surprise, it was Nick who was walking forward and kneeling in front of the naked corpse, his hands reaching out to touch her blood matted hair. His fingers were moving in frantic movements, feeling around the woman's scalp then slowly working his way along the strands. "…Nick?" He asked. There was no answer for a second and soon he was untangling one bobby pin from the woman's hair, sliding the object into the pocket of his suit. "Nick?"

"Fuck – _what _ Ellis? _What?"_

"Are you…?"

Nick stopped in his search of the woman's hair, turning to face the mechanic with hard eyes. "No, I'm not." Was all he said before returning to the woman and tugging lightly at her hair, his movements fast as he tried to finish the job as soon as he could but as Ellis watched, he couldn't help but think that his speed was slowing the overall progress.

The light from their makeshift fire place began to dim as the paper burned into ash, the heavy smell of smoke filling the room. Another wad of paper was tossed into the fire and the light returned and the smoke got heavier as it rolled along the ceiling. "Nick-"

"_Shut up_, Ellis!"

Stepping forward, Ellis pushed Nick aside and reached out to the deceased woman himself, searching her hair with slower movements though his hands were shaking just as bad if not worse. Soon, Ellis extracted another bobby pin from the woman's hair and passed it to Nick as they both slid back from the body. Nick nearly ran to the other side of the room as he began to bend and shape the bobby pins to what he needed while Ellis silently thanked the woman for her help. Coach stepped in next to Nick, bringing their light source in close so he could see what he was doing with the bobby pins. One was bent and resting at the bottom of the lock while the other was being slid in on top of it before being pulled out quickly. The conman did this a couple of times before he was wiggling the top bobby pin, gradually pulling the pin out of the lock. Cursing, he started the process over again.

"You wonder why the smoke detector hasn't gone off?" Coach asked, as the three kept crouched low to the ground.

"Prolly took the batteries out," Ellis commented.

Another curse and the bobby pins were being removed and then reinserted.

"Whaddaya say to finding it then? Maybe we can set it off and one of them will come in here, you know? Separate them?"

"We need a weapon or something though," Ellis murmured and Nick snorted.

"Lock him in here and let the wack-job burn," Suit said bitterly. There was a soft click and the lock was turning. The door was open, allowing the smoke to filter from the room; the three men huddled close to the door opening, taking deep breaths.

Ellis stepped back into the room, watching as the fire began to die. "Let's find that smoke detector."

**xXxX**

When Zoey finally retained consciousness her head was pounding, the back of her skull ached as well as her cheek. Groaning, she cracked her eyes open, feeling something soft yet hard under her head as she stirred. "_Ssh."_

"R'chelle?"

They were sitting on the asphalt in a large green tent, a flashlight that was shaped close to a lantern hanging from the center. Zoey began to sit up but Rochelle held her in place, pushing her back into her bony legs so she was unable to move. "Wh-"

"They said they were waiting for you to wake up," Rochelle whispered. Her eyes were red and puffy with tears, a red mark in the shape of a hand was stretched over her cheek and she was still trembling. "They said it would be more fun if you were awake. Please… Please don't move." Her body hunched forward as more tears spilled down her cheeks and against the curve of her jaw.

From her place, Zoey surveyed the space they were in and frowned when she noticed that the only structures in the tent were small cots that were draped with bloodied blankets and destroyed pillows. Her gut twisted, thinking of the things that they had done to other innocent people and what these men were going to do to them. "Ro, it doesn't matter if I am awake or not. They _will _come in here and when they do, we have a decision to make," she was whispering, looking up at Rochelle with worried eyes as the older woman gazed down at her.

"I know."

"I'm going to sit up now."

"_Oh God,_ please no. _Please." _Rochelle's grip tightened over Zoey, holding her in place. "Just wait."

Nodding, Zoey settled down yet again, looking for any sort of weapon that may aid them in getting out of their current predicament. There was nothing, just the cots and the light hanging from the lantern that would more than likely break if it were used against one of the men. Voice from outside of the tent and Zoey froze and for both hers and Rochelle's sake she closed her eyes and evened out her breathing the best that she could. If they could just hold out like this for a little longer… Just a little longer.

Voices, she could only pick up the voices and the smells that they brought with them as they entered the tent. She felt Rochelle shiver violently beneath her, the woman's upper body curling over hers protectively. "_Fuck, _she ain't awake yet?" The voice was from the man who had met them at the gate – the one who had punched her in the face. "I know I was the one that said that it would be fun to wait for her to be awake but, Goddamn I just… Can we play with this one at least?" The voice was closer, hovering nearby and again, Rochelle trembled.

For a moment, just a moment, Zoey's mind wondered off towards a Liam Neeson movie – _Taken! God, I love that movie_ – and a part of her anxiously anticipated for Liam's arrival. He would burst through the tent's opening and take care of the situation. Rochelle and herself would be perfectly fine and unharmed, they would go find Ellis, Coach and Nick and they would find a car and drive into New Orleans where Francis and Louis would be waiting for them. But she knew that such a thing wouldn't be happening. Liam Neeson was probably a zombie anyway.

This wasn't a movie.

_I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you that I don't have any money._

This was real, and these men were going to hurt her.

_But what I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. _

They were going to take her – whether it was one-by-one or all three acting at one time, she didn't know. She didn't want to know. Why did she have to wake up?

_If you let my daughter go now, that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you and I will kill you. _

Zoey's mind, still drifting over _Taken _ and how Liam Neeson was a zombie somewhere in California, shot back into reality as soon as she felt her body being yanked away from Rochelle's grasp. Her eyes shot open, her body flinching at the contact and she began to struggle. She kicked her legs and flailed her arms, tossing her body from side to side until she was thrown onto the dirty cots that seemed to line the tent's walls. "Oh, look who woke up!" It was the large man who had taken the boys who was hovering over, his body caging hers down to the uncomfortable bedding. A large hand with thick fingers drifted down her side and towards her hip, lingering against her thighs before she reacted.

Pitching her upper body and neck forward her forehead collided with his and the man bit back a hiss as he recoiled. He was clutching his forehead as Zoey staggered to her feet. The first thing that she found herself doing was lifting her hands – just as she had done with her father in her self-defense classes but she had never practiced with someone who had a loaded shotgun on stand-by. "Yer makin' it more difficult fer yerself, girly," the man sneered. "Keep this up and we'll fuck her and make you watch." He made a gesture to Rochelle who was standing as still as a statue at gun point, simply looking on.

"Don't you dare touch her!"

"Don't you worry, honey. You'll be next."

It was then that the third man stepped into the tent, his gun raised and at the ready as he licked his lips and looked from one woman to the other. "So which one is it gonna be first, boys?"

"This one here," the man closest to Rochelle gestured to the poor woman who merely stared at an unmarked space of ground. The new comer to the tent lifted his pistol and pointed it towards Rochelle and gave a toothy grin. "Start strippin', girly." When Rochelle didn't move, the man moved forward in a threatening manner, placing the barrel against her forehead. "Do it now, or I will be fuckin' yer cor-"

A loud, shrill sound cut through the evening air and the man closest to Zoey hissed with irritation, his hand reaching down into his pocket. "Sonnova bitch, I knew I shoulda just killed 'em."

"Well go get that shit turned off, Blue. It'll attract them Zombies if it keeps up much longer." The large man left the tent, a ring of keys held in his hand.

It was back to two-on-two with both men holding a sort of firearm while the two women were helpless, waiting. For a moment they were all quiet, knowing that they couldn't simply continue as they were but the sound kept going, seeming to increase in volume as the seconds ticked on. Zoey studied the two men and then studied Rochelle. They needed a plan, something that would be able to postpone the inevitable if only for a little while.

Part of Zoey's mind said that it should be Rochelle to take the stand, to protect her – the younger of the two – but the more rational side of Zoey's being told her that such things weren't always the case. She remembered her first car accident, how her friend (who had been driving) had been screaming as they sat in the overturned vehicle, her arms flailing wildly as Zoey took a moment to decide if the sticky substance on her hands and arms was blood or the warm coke that had been in the cup holder. Some people just took certain situations better than others and in such a case it was Zoey who was able to cope.

"_Always be strong, Zoey," _Her father had told her after he had signed her up for the self defense classes. "_And don't you ever give up without a fight. You fight until your last breath and then you fight some more."_

Screaming erupted over the sound of the alarm but the two men seemed to ignore it.

**xXxX**

Nick lit another wad of paper before setting it under the desk, allowing the flames to drift up and touch the cheap wood. It took a few moments for the fire to actually catch and then they were moving on to the next flammable object. The carpet, paintings, a bulletin board, paperwork – everything that would burn was set on fire and soon the three were huddling closer and closer towards the door. "Alright Ellis, go start it up."

All together, the plan itself was pretty hazardous. The first step was lighting the building on fire, which they did, and then came activating the building's alarm system, which they had discovered before lighting the building on fire. The next step was to get one of the men back to the building, pull him inside the burning establishment, disarm him and then go and save Rochelle and Zoey before running away while hoping that no zombies would be following them. All of this while being unarmed, hoping that there would be no back-draft when the door was opened and assuming that the girls weren't hurt and were able to hold their own as they made their escape.

Staying low to the ground, Ellis made his way through the smoke-filled rooms until he came across the security system that they had found. It had been almost destroyed with the wires being yanked from the paneling but after a couple of moments of tinkering and toying around with things, Ellis was able to get the system to come back to life with a loud, shrill ringing that was accompanied by swirling red lights that danced over the smoky room. "It's up!" he yelled as he made his way back towards the door where Nick and Coach were crouched.

Coach was standing close to the door as he was the biggest and he was going to be the one to start their attack on whoever was at the door. It took longer than expected and as the building began to engulf in flames and the smoke thickened Nick took it open himself to crack the door open for just a second but the large man from before was standing at the door, keys in his hands and shotgun against the door frame. Ellis and Nick staggered to the side as Coach plowed forward, nearly taking the man to the ground as his shoulder drove into the portly man's stomach. Nick came forward next, grabbing the shotgun and the keys to the building as he took aim at the man, who had been working on fighting Coach off of his person until the barrel of the weapon connected with his ribs.

Ellis held the door open, the smoke rolling out of the doorway in massive plumes as the fire inside grew. "… No…" was all that was heard from the man as he began to shake his head, but Coach wouldn't take this as an answer. He gave the man a hard push forward, making him stumble into the room while Nick kicked the door closed. The ring of keys was passed over to Ellis who began to try fit the keys with the lock. Frantic, angry screaming sounded over the alarm and for a brief moment the door was swinging open. Ellis threw his weight against the door and he heard it slam shut, sliding another key into the lock and twisting it as far as he could before realizing that it was the wrong key. The door pushed open again but this time, Coach was there to push it back into place, holding the door closed until the door to the building was locked and secured.

The man inside the building was still yelling – screaming – and his voice was carrying over the sound of the alarm system. "Alright," Coach said after he cleared his throat. "Let's go save our girls."

It seemed that as if on cue there was an angry yell from the large tents that were in the middle of the road, light from the inside of one specific tent gave them a mess of humanoid shadows to study as they moved. Two figures were standing close together, one shadow standing stock-still while the other was reaching out – reaching out to touch – while the other two on the other side of the tent were struggling with one another. The taller figure was holding onto the smaller from behind while the petite body struggled.

"_Don't you _fucking _touch her!"_

There was laughter that carried over the sound of the alarm and then with a sudden movement the small, struggling figure was pitching her body backwards and the man howled in pain before the shadow was lunging towards the other two that stood on the other side of the tent. As soon as she had lunged she was on the ground as the man that had been holding her managed to make his come-back. Ellis ran forward, weapon be damned, and entered the tent.

Zoey was on the ground, her shirt ripped down her side and around to her back, there was blood on her forehead and her cheek was bruised and swollen while the man had her wrists in both of his hands, pinning them above her head as he yanked at the button of her jeans. She was fighting for all she had, screaming as she kicked her feet and yanked at her wrists, throwing her upper body forward to head-butt the man. "Let her go! Let her _go!"_

Meanwhile Rochelle, oh God, Rochelle. She was trembling, her entire body swaying as she heaved in silent sobs. Her shirt was bunched up against her chest, her pants undone and the man's dirty hands drifting along her navel and the waist of her underwear. Her hands were clenched into fists, knuckles white as if she was trying to remain in place, being violated as she was while another part of her wanted nothing more than to fight but the gun was holding her rooted in place.

The sound of the double barrel so close to his own personal space made Ellis flinch though it ended in the man touching Rochelle falling to the ground, the buckshot shredding the man's throat and chest. He fell backwards, the gun clattering to the ground just seconds before the man's body itself. This left the man on top of Zoey, who was just beginning to right himself before Ellis sent his foot into his rib cage. The man suddenly dropped back down, almost on top of Zoey though Ellis proceeded. Another hard kick the ribs and the man rolled to his back, heaving and gasping for air as he reached for his discarded weapon. Dropping onto one knee beside the man, Ellis cocked his fist back and then punched the man hard – he was going to kill him.

Another punch.

He was going to kill this man with his bare hands.

Two more and the man was no longer trying to reach for the gun, but protect himself.

"You sonnava bitch!" Ellis yelled as another punch was delivered to the man's face. With every hit, the contour of the man's face became less resistant against his knuckles and – Coach grabbed onto Ellis' shoulders and yanked him back.

"Ellis! Calm down!"

"I'm gonna-"

The man was suddenly reaching for his dropped weapon, still trying to find in the midst of the commotion. Nick stepped forward, grabbing onto said weapon and lifting it out of the man's grasp. "Ellis, get your girl and let's get the fuck outta here." He was holding on to all three weapons before he was turning to address Rochelle. "You ready Ro?"

No answer.

"Ro! Come on, now isn't the time to lose it!"

"Yeah – yeah I'm ready."

Nick then turned to Zoey, who had moved to sitting on her knees, closing her eyes tightly for a moment. "What about you? You ready to go?"

"Give me a minute."

"We don't _have _a minute."

Ellis reached out and took Zoey's hand, helping her to her feet. "He's right, darlin'. We gotta get out of here and the only way out is to cross the bridge." Zoey looked up at him, her cheek swollen, forehead bleeding and her eyes distant and angry. His hand reached out and cupped her cheek for just a moment, his thumb brushing over the tender skin.

"Now let's go."

With Coach, Nick and Ellis holding their newly acquired weapons, the three men escorted the two women from the tent and together they took their first steps over towards the twenty-three miles that created the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway. The sound of the alarm continued to blare, the flames finally started to eat at the exterior of the building and the deep, deep down, Ellis thought that they would be able to cross the bridge without running into any infected.

It wasn't likely.

**XXXXX**

_Aaaand that's it for this one. Not a whole lot of Ellis/Zoey action in here but hey… At least Rochelle and Zoey didn't get raped by creepy rednecks. _

_A couple more things… _

_Liam Neeson and the movie Taken kick ass. You know it, I know it – and I figured Zoey should know it too. _

_People respond to situations differently. Zoey just happens to be a fighter who dwells on action flicks in the midst of her troubles._

_I hope you enjoyed your drama/action without the drama/action._

_Buh-bye_


	5. The Problem

_And here we go again…_

**xXXXXXx**

The bridge was completely _empty_. There was no abandoned or crashed vehicles, no traces of baggage and there was no infected – dead or alive. Looking back down the length of bridge that they had ran there was no scrambling figures chasing after them, no glowing white eyes charging through the distance that separated them. It was _empty _and only the moon lit the causeway, giving the asphalt and the water around the bridge an eerie glow. Occasionally one of the group would turn around and study the stretch of road that now lay behind them but they were met with nothing. Listening to the sound of water lapping against the bridge's supports, Zoey frowned. At this point, she would have preferred the sound of screaming infected instead of the creepy water-sloshing. Not even the alarm was sounding off anymore and the college student wondered if the building – which was a large beacon of light in the distance – had dealt too much damage to the system.

"This is creepy," Nick claimed from his place in front of the pack but the only response was a couple of hums of agreement; nothing too vocal but enough to let the conman know that his comment was heard.

Since the events that had unfolded at the toll booth everyone seemed rather tense – and with good reason. They had a total of three weapons and the only ammo that was carried with them were the bullets in the chamber and whatever was left in the clip or the magazine. Rochelle was a jumpy mess. Whenever Coach would reach out to offer a, what should have been, soothing or comforting pat to the back she would flinch and cringe when his hand made contact. Zoey was the first to say something, telling the men (Ellis and Coach specifically) that she would prefer to not be touched. No hug, not a pat on the back or a quick touch to her arm or her hand – nothing. She didn't want to be touched.

Rochelle agreed as she rubbed her hands up and down her exposed arms. The woman would flinch rather openly if someone would move too fast next to her, making her steps hesitate before she resumed walking at a normal pace. The discomfort was contagious and Zoey found herself reacting similarly, shying away when Ellis walked too close and flinching when Nick or Coach would turn around unexpectedly. She silently scolded herself for her reactions yet she couldn't do anything to prevent it. She knew that it was because of Coach, Ellis and Nick that they had made it out of such a mess yet every time they got close…

_We can't afford to be like this,_ she told herself.

Deep down, she knew that her newly developed problems could risk her life and that of those around her. She made a conscious effort to refrain from flinching the way she did but on one occasion, as Ellis reached out to gesture to her destroyed shirt she released an audible gasp and recoiled from the mechanic. The look of hurt and confusion in his eyes made her feel incredibly guilty, so much so that she even muttered a quiet apology as she dropped her eyes down to the road. She felt awkward in her own skin even though the man didn't do anything that would leave any lasting scars – physically or mentally.

Sure, they hit her a couple of times – knocked her out and the man _did _have her pants unbuttoned but that was the extent of it. Zoey decided that it was the _idea_s of what could have happened if Nick, Coach and Ellis hadn't have come when they did. She was thankful, so thankful and she wished she could take each of them – even Nick – and give them a tight hug and thank them. Thank them for being so quick at being her Liam Neeson stand-ins when she needed them the most.

"_Shit, _can someone be annoying or something?" Nick asked, he sounded just as uneasy as Zoey felt with the silence. When no one jumped at such an opportunity he sighed and glanced back over his shoulder. "Zoey, weren't you telling Ellis why you weren't going to go for an evac? Tell us that. Someone just _talk."_

Rochelle looked up from the road, "You aren't going to go with us when we are evacuated?"

Zoey suddenly preferred the creepy emptiness.

"No, I'm not."

"Why?"

Sighing, Zoey fingered the torn end of her shirt, briefly touching the exposed skin to see how cool it felt against her clammy palm. "Bill, Francis, Louis and me were already evacuated. We spent so much time following the signs. Outpost Echo – go the hospital, go through the airport. Do this, do that. They had moved it out into Allegheny National Forest to this farm house and we were eventually evacuated. Big armored vehicle, really cool ya know? They…"

God, why couldn't they just sing songs?

_If you're uncomfortable and you know it, clap your hands!_

"I'm not immune."

"Then how are you still here? How are you still alive?" It was Ellis that asked, carefully keeping his distance while still walking at her side.

Zoey sucked her lips back between her teeth for a brief moment as she thought of the right words – something that wouldn't deter them from seeking help (who knew, maybe it was just her own bad experience) but keeping them aware. "The place was a death row for people like us."

_Yep. Awesome. Good job, Zoey._

Not stopping long enough to let any of the four jump in, Zoey surged forward. "They put us in these holding cells, ran tests and instead of telling us that we were immune, they told us that we were carriers – or at least me and Bill were." She flinched as Ellis' head twisted in her direction. "There were so many people that they just _killed. _They weren't even trying to find a cure they were finding us and picking us off, one by one."

The overall pace of the group had slowed significantly into a pace that none of them had taken in a great while. "How did you get outta there?" Coach was looking back over his shoulder now and for a moment, they made eye contact.

"There was this alarm that went off. Something really loud that attracted the infected, I don't know what started it. Me and Bill got the doctor to help us and Francis and Louis managed to get a couple of the soldiers to help them from their cell. We got weapons and we caught the train outta there." She was being extremely vague, she knew she was and she hoped that none of them would make any more questions. To make sure that this would end, she added one last comment and give the story a sense of finality. "The train got us to the bridge and from there we were planning on going to the Florida Keys. Some remote islands or something equally abandoned."

"What happened to the people that helped you?" Rochelle was still watching her and for a moment, Zoey was reminded of her mother's stern, penetrating gaze that could dig the smallest of lies out of anybody.

They had been left for dead just like her and Bill, Francis and Louis and just like Ellis, Rochelle, Nick and Coach. The only difference was that they (the survivors) had fought against all odds and had, thus far, prevailed while the others died trying to get to the train; the train that Bill had been controlling, the same train that Bill could have slowed down so the others could have made it on board.

_We look out for our own._

Jesus, she couldn't say that! How well would that go over? _Oh, well, Bill didn't slow down the train because they weren't one of _us _so we left them there to die. _Licking her lips, she decided to settle for a small shake of her head and pushed on. She picked up her pace and slipped past Nick and Coach as she was overcome with the desire to run. She didn't want to run away, she just wanted to find a way to vent her discomfort and her sadness and her anger and running had always been a great outlet to throw all of her pent up emotions.

Alone – she wanted to be alone! For just five minutes, that would all she would need and then she could be at least content if not happy. Given the current situation, it was a bad idea but before Zoey could actually tell herself to just keep walking she found her feet hitting the asphalt at a faster pace. Soon, she was urging her legs to move faster and she was placing several yards between them and the space was growing.

"Zoey!"

"_Zoey!" _

"Let her go," It was Coach's voice that reached her despite the distance, calm and deep. "Give her a minute."

She could be in the Florida Keys now, soaking up the sun and enjoying some canned food that had been on that _stupid _sailboat. Louis and Francis would be close by, bickering about something like they always were. There would be no zombies, no use for weapons and they would just be there and not worrying about anything.

_Yeah right._

There was no way it would be that easy – nothing was ever that easy. Things seemed to be going the way that no one expected them to go. Right when they were in the clear, the evac post was moved back further. They were evacuated and the army was going to _kill _them. When they had made their plan and when things were finally coming to a close, Bill had to make the decision that lead to his death. Time and time again, when things were finally looking up they would take a sharp turn for the worst, leaving Francis' cynical views gospel and Louis' hopeful outlooks a passing fancy.

Her shoes clapped heavily against the ground as she slowed to a stop. She was taking deep breaths as she turned to look back over her shoulder, finding the four shadowy figures a ways back, two or three hundred yards at the absolute least. Finding the space was adequate, she plopped down on her backside and waited. How long had it been since she had been alone? Sure, there were a couple of minutes in a shower or a bathroom but being alone - it seemed like so long ago! She missed sitting on the couch on a Friday night, watching horror flicks and fighting with twelve year olds on Xbox Live.

Sure, she would have never met the amazing people that she did and her _Zombie Apocalypse Plan (_Which happened to have fail miserably) would still be in the idea stages and a fleeting fantasy that she would often resort to when she was bored, but she wanted everything to be back the way it was. She wanted to wake up one morning, sprawled on her dad's couch and discover that it was all a dream.

A sudden and harsh gust of wind brought her eyes up from her shoes and she took in her dark surroundings. Upon looking up at the evening sky she noticed a large, dark mass that was shifting over the moon, blocking out the natural light that lit the causeway. Another rush of air and the exposed skin of her arms and torso prickled with goose bumps, feeling the moisture in the air. It wasn't moments later when it began to rain, the water hitting the asphalt and the water that was around them. Cursing, Zoey got to her feet as lightning flashed in the distance. This was another downside to the South.

Rain storms formed in a second. It would be completely clear and in an instant it would be dark with heavy rain clouds. They would get rain back home, sure, but when it rained down South it seemed to be a bit more forceful…

_It's raining, bitch! _Zoey smiled to herself as wind tore its way across the lake. _It's raining sideways!_

… She missed television…

She turned to squint into the absolute darkness, no longer seeing the four other survivors that had been walking after her, giving her some much needed me-time. Sighing, she began to walk back towards the way she came, crossing her arms over her chest as thunder rumbled in the distance.

xXxX

Rain.

For a few seconds, it had started as a light drizzle - a bit of rain, nothing too threatening but it was with a burst of light and sound that the sky opened up and it started to pour. When the large drops of rain splashed onto his face Ellis would flinch and blink rapidly, eventually forcing him to lower his chin down to his chest. He adjusted his hat so it tilted down over his eyes as he moved to picked up his pace. "C'mon y'all," he called out over the sound of the wind and the rain. They had proceeded with their steady strides after Zoey had ran ahead as Coach had persuaded them to do so.

"_She just needs some space is all."_

There was another flash of light, briefly offering the road a form in the darkness before it vanished and thunder shook the structure. As Ellis stepped past Nick he heard the man curse loudly, "What the fuck is with the weather in the South?" He lifted the collar on his suit to protect his neck and followed Ellis down the road. Frowning into the rain, Ellis squinted his eyes as he tried to look for their fifth party member. She had been somewhat visible before the rain had started and now there was nothing but absolute darkness with the occasional burst of light that would give them an idea as to where everyone in the group stood.

Ellis frowned, keeping his worries to himself.

He wished they would have taken a different route – there had been several that he could have taken but with all of the traffic that had blocked the vehicle and crossing the bridge would have been the easiest way without going all the way around the bridge. There was the event with at the toll booth and now it was raining and there was absolutely no cover in sight.

"Come on guys, let's pick it -" There was a flicker of light and Ellis saw why the man had stopped talking when he did. Wrapped tightly around his form was a long, slick appendage that had stretched over the water from the North-bound bridge. As the strobe-effect died they were left with a loud yell of surprise and then the sound of stumbling feet and cursing. "_Get it-"_

For a moment, as Ellis tried to find Coach's form in the darkness, he wondered if the things had _planned _this. They had been able to see fairly well before the rain, the moon giving them enough light to keep tabs on both stretches of road and they had been empty. Then, just as it gets dark, a smoker makes an appearance? No – there was no way that such a thing could be a coincidence. Ellis knew that the infected knew how to work together; he had seen it. A jockey would steer one of them off into acid, a smoker would conveniently drag one of them through a mess of bile that had been projected from a boomer and there was a number of other sick tricks that these _things _knew how to pull. But this was new.

Since when did they use the weather to make a sneak attack?

He had seen it in games and movies, sure. A sniper, for example, would use the sounds of thunder or something equally loud to pick people off and no one else would know the wiser until it was too late but having _zombies _pull such a stunt was nearly unthinkable.

"Fuck, Coach, where are ya?" Nick's voice was close and Ellis almost flinched at the sound.

There was a low grunt from beside him and Ellis' arms flailed out until he felt Coach's back. He was gripping onto the waist-high concrete structure that lined the outside of the bridge. His body was shaking with the strain of holding on, fighting back against the smoker that challenged them from across the water. "I gotcha, Coach," Ellis claimed, fidgeting with his weapon as there was another burst of lightning.

There it was, its body leaning back as it tried to get its target closer, the appendage straining and moving, tightening its hold and trying to reel in its catch. With no move to get a good aim on the Smoker or the appendage, Ellis lifted his weapon and fired, the bullet driving home into the tongue and with a loud but wheezy shriek from the other bridge the smoker – and its tongue – vanished into the darkness. "You good, Coach?" Ellis asked as the man dropped to the road, gasping for air.

"Yeh 'm good," he panted.

"Alright," Nick said, voice barely carrying over the sound of the rain. "We need to get the hell off of this bridge."

A scream, loud and piercing sounded besides them, there was a scuffle followed by a startled yelp and then a low groan of pain. "What is with people hitting my _faaace_?" came the soft whine. The sound's origin seemed low to the ground and somewhere off to his right. There was no response until lightning lit the area for a solid five seconds and what Ellis saw startled him. Nick was standing in front of Rochelle, who looked alarmed and wide eyed, with his gun aimed at the space in front of him but at his feet was Zoey. She was sprawled out on the ground at Nick's feet, her hand cupping her jaw and her eyes clenched tightly closed.

And then there was darkness.

"Oh, _shit, _I am so sorry, Zoey!" It was Rochelle.

"You got one hell of a right-hook, Ro." Zoey.

"Oh… My bad." Nick – he didn't sound too sorry.

There was a scuffle for a couple of seconds where Ellis could only assume that someone was helping Zoey get to her feet while he warily searched the darkness where the other bridge should have been – where the Smoker most likely was. "Guys, we need to get outta here," Ellis prodded.

"We need to move fast but we need to stick together," Coach added and he felt hands touch his shoulders. "Alright kids, lets hold hands and get the hell outta here."

"Hold hands?" Nick again.

"Gotta keep tabs on everyone with that Smoker and-"

"Whoa, wait, Smoker?" Ellis heard a distinct shudder of discomfort in her voice and he reached out for the place her voice originated. His fingers brushed something soft and wet and he felt face – her cheek, specifically – move under his hand as she gasped. "What the-!"

"It's me," he told her. "Gimme your hand." Her fingers touched his wrist and he immediately grabbed at it as his own wrist was ensnared by Coach's large fingers. Lightning flashed and Ellis could see that Rochelle had taken Zoey's hand and Nick had taken hers and with an easy tug of his wrist, Ellis was following Coach who was pulling the entire group down the causeway.

"Keep on yer toes, y'all."

In the midst of the crashing thunder, the wind, the rain and the lightning, the group steadily made their way along the causeway, the sound of a hunter echoing over the din that surrounded them.

"Ah, Jesus," Zoey swore. "I _hate _bridges."

xXxX

It had taken a whopping eight hours to cross the Pontchartrain causeway and by the time they found a place to rest – a Marriot that had thankfully been just off of the bridge – the bulk of the storm had passed and they were left with a cloudy morning with a side of dense fog. Thankfully, the fog made it somewhat easy to walk down the street and not have any of the infected catch sight of them – however, it played the other way as well. In the midst of their morning trek to the hotel they would be attacked in the middle of a seemingly empty street and with their weapons empty they had to fight back by bludgeoning the infected with their fists and the butt-end of their nearly useless weapons. The entire lot of them were shivering and soaked to the bone, their fatigue showing in their posture and overall ability to defend themselves.

It had been a long night, starting with the mess in Baton Rouge and ending with a slow shuffle into Metairie, Louisiana. Each of them had had their own issues throughout the night and even though they were no longer making their complaints about said issues, it was obvious that they were each silently fuming over it all.

Rochelle had taken the trophy for a near-death experience as the Smoker had made a return and had nearly yanked her off of the bridge. Even though the fall into the water really wasn't a long drop it was a high possibility that she would have drowned while trying to find her way to shore. With her feet dangling towards the water she had to be hauled back onto the strip of road by Coach. They had taken a moment to let her nerves settle before they were in their line and trekking over the bridge.

Nick had been picked on countless times throughout the night, receiving the attack of a hunter, which had successfully utilized the darkness to its advantage. After the hunter had been shoved off it bounded off into the night without a sound. He later found himself being the target of a Spitter and though the acid was somewhat deluded by the rain he found that the left side of his face and neck had harsh burns that left a number of blisters rising from his skin.

Taking the most cosmetic damage was Coach as he had played as their Tank (Despite the grim link, Zoey had claimed that a Tank was the fighter that dealt the most damage in most roleplay games. "_What, none of you played Guild Wars? WoW? Okay, seriously – no body?" _) In the event that he ran out of ammunition, which had happened rather quickly as he had started to fire blindly at the Smoker that had attacked Rochelle, he had not only used the butt of his gun but he used his fist, his head – anything that would cause damage – and had bloodied and bruised knuckles. A couple of his fingers seemed be jammed, as they were swollen at the knuckle and he was displaying discomfort whenever he tried to bend the digits.

Zoey had taken a number of hits to the head throughout the course of the evening, whether it was the back of her skull or her face she had definitely seen better days. A blackened bruise had taken over one of her cheeks, a bloodied slit aligning with her cheek bone from the punch to the face she had received at the toll booth. There was a slender cut above one eye and a good amount of blood was spilling from a laceration above her left temple that had been inflicted by another Hunter ambush. In the midst of the Hunter attack Ellis had taken it upon himself to be her savior.

The young mechanic had managed to dislocate his shoulder while driving his body forward and tackling the hunter that had attacked his intended apocalypse wife. The force that he had exerted, along with that of shoving the hunter into the solid concrete lining of the bridge had resulted in a loud cry of pain but was then followed by the shriek of the infected as it was shoved over the bridge and into the water. With the lightning around them it was clear that something had happened as his entire side had slumped into a nearly lifeless-looking mess. Coach had been quick to help Ellis, telling him to take a breath before he was roughly maneuvering the young man's arm and with a dull pop, they were good to go.

The stumbled into the hotel – which would have been absolutely beautiful if it wasn't littered with dead bodies and the carefully designed floor wasn't smeared with blood and varieties of entrails. The building was primarily empty, or at least the entrance was, save for a concierge zombie that was lingering in the lounge. They went to straight to employee break room and locked the door and simply collapsed onto the couches, the floor – any surface that was up for grabs. Without any words and without tending to wounds they all drifted to sleep.

**xXxX**

Zoey heard voices before she came to full consciousness, her head throbbing just behind her eyes and at the back of her skull (_The Cerebellum, _she thought dizzily as she recalled her high school health classes.)"You think she might have a concussion?"

For a moment she thought she felt fingers on her forehead, probing a rather large and painful goose egg that had made an appearance. "Well, if that's the case," it was a deeper voice and it was far away as well but as he spoke the sound seemed to lose its distance and become harder and more real. "She prob'ly shouldn't have gone to sleep."

Those same fingers that had been touching her forehead drifted down her swollen cheek and down along her jaw to her neck. "When did she get this?" The hand drifted over tender flesh that was stretched over her jugular.

_Hands tugging at the opening of her jeans, groping at her flesh – touching. Fetid breath and the smell of blood and – _

Zoey's eyes shot open and her entire body jolted back away from those callused hands that were touching her so softly. In the midst of the initial movement she pushed herself backwards and off of the table that she had been sprawled on top of. Dropping to the ground and an audible gasp of air, Zoey squeezed her eyes shut as her head began to spin. "Oh… _shit," _she whined, her arms snaking up and wrapping around her poor, abused, noggin.

"You okay, girl?" It was Rochelle and when Zoey dared to open her eyes, she saw the woman crouching beside her.

"Did my head get ran over?"

There was a snort. "Sure as hell looks like it."

"Shuddup, Suit."

Ellis cleared his throat, "Zoey, there is a bathroom over there. Why don't you go ahead and get cleaned up?"

Rochelle helped her to her feet, assisting her with slow movements as if Zoey might break if she was handled incorrectly. Shuffling towards the open door that was tucked against the corner, Zoey ducked into the bathroom, carefully closing the door behind her. Under the florescent lighting she was shocked to see her own reflection staring at her with heavy eyes. There was bruises on her face and neck, blood dried to one side of her head and a part of her ear, her jaw and neck. Her cheek was puffy and icky and she looked disgusting despite the fact that she had a shower not twenty-four hours ago. Tugging the elastic from her hair, Zoey grimaced, using both hands to gently pull her hair loose. Once free, her hair stayed clumped together as it was matted with blood and God-knows what else.

Twisting the taps to full blast she dunked her head under the stream of water, gently massaging her scalp and whimpering when she touched a place that was all too tender. The water that filled the sink was varying shades of pink and grey – disgusting. Lifting her head, and being careful not to hit her head on the faucet, Zoey extracted herself out from the sink and went to cleaning her face, gently scrubbing at the dried blood. Studying her face she noticed that without the dirt and blood she didn't look _too _bad but she still looked like someone had decided to beat the crap out of her.

Jesus, she wasn't one to really partake in makeup – some eyeliner and a bit of eye shadow at the worst of times – but this was a totally different story! She wondered if there were any clothes left in any of the rooms. Weapons would be nice too. She decided that she would have to ask Rochelle if she was up for it, spend a bit of girl time in the midst of this shitmess.

Wringing out her still dirty hair, she pulled the tangled mess over her shoulder and made her way back into the break room. Everyone was sitting in the small lounging area, sitting in comfortable chairs that seemed way too expensive to even exist in the current apocalyptic fallout. "Nick, I would like to thank you," she announced as she plopped down onto a free cushion.

"For what?"

"Telling me that I look like I got hit by a truck – that might be a bit extreme but it does look like someone beat me with an ugly stick." Her fingers prodded at her swollen cheek.

Ellis, who was sitting in an over-stuffed arm chair, frowned. "You don't look like you've been beaten with an ugly stick."

"A club then."

"Darlin'," Ellis started and he managed to catch Zoey's eyes in that _look _he had. "You look perfectly fine."

There was a conversation that started up between Nick and Coach that Zoey was completely tuned out as one half of Ellis' mouth curved upward in a smile, briefly flashing his pearly whites as it moved into a full smile. For a dazed moment, Zoey wondered if the mechanic from Savannah even knew just how easily he gave her butterflies. The intensity of his eyes was startling, something that you wouldn't expect to see, but it was alluring and attractive all the same. She felt a familiar yet vague feeling of warmth begin to rise in her cheeks and the eye contact was broken.

… _Did I really just…?_

Examining the dirt under her nails she nibbled on the inside of her lower lip, quietly contemplating the situation. Should she chance to look up at him and get busted or just examine her nails and shirt and whatever else was in her vicinity that may or may not be even remotely interesting? Letting her eyes drift around the room, to anywhere but Ellis, she looked at the chairs, the carpet, the light fixtures, the buzzing fridge, Ellis (_Oh God, he's still looking at me)_, the broken television, the bulletin board near the small kitchen, Ellis (_He knows) _, the whiteboard next to the bulletin board, a door opposite of the bathroom door, Ellis.._. _

Ellis.

He was still smiling, his shoulders rising and falling in a silent chuckle – _Oh he definitely knows_.

"We can check the hotel for more supplies before we get back on the road," Nick was saying. "This place has got to be a gold mine. How many suites did the computer up front say?"

"That's not the point," Coach countered. "How many of them things do you think are still crawlin' around here? What weapons do we have?"

Coach was looking a bit worse for wear, his fingers swollen and stiff, the bridge of his nose appearing to be a little cut up and the space under both of his eyes seemed a bit discolored. Their Tank was out for the time being and it might take a little while for him to be up and ready to go again. Nick still seemed ready for a fight but the contact from the Spitter made him look in worse condition than what he really was and she could tell that Ellis was favoring one arm over the other.

"We can't just sit here," Nick shot back. "Sitting and doing nothing isn't going to help us."

"And if we go out like this we are done-"

Zoey was standing now, making her way towards the doorway that was across from the bathroom. Sitting and arguing wasn't going to be doing anything for them either. Something – anything would be better than arguing at this point. She knew that they would need to vent eventually, having had numerous arguments with her three (two) friends and witnessing some almost-physical fights between Bill and Francis, she was expecting it.

That didn't mean that she had to be around when it happened.

Opening the door she was met with a small locker room that must have been used by the floor staff and she happily walked in to check out the swag. She needed a new shirt and maybe another sweater – maybe she could find some kind of foundation or cover up so she could hide some of the bruising on her neck. There was a number of lockers that were left open and abandoned and the ones that were closed didn't have a lock on them. Stepping towards the first locker she popped the latch and pulled it open and she was greeted with a purse. It was Coach, black and white and Zoey hesitated before she looked inside. There was an iPhone and a matching wallet, lip gloss and a ton of loose change. There was also an umbrella (_Where in the Hell was that thing last night?)_ and a heavy looking coat.

Tossing the umbrella and the purse to the floor she moved to the next locker and opened it. There was a hoodie and a pair of jeans – both of which she tossed to the floor – and a couple of empty coffee mugs. She picked the jeans up again, finding a wallet and a small pocket knife tucked into the back pockets. Dropping them to the floor she moved on to the next locker, clicking her tongue over the roof of her mouth as she searched.

Pants, skirts, shirts, shoes, socks, purses, wallets, a number of pocket knives, a baseball bat with a glove and ball, a football, phones, mail – everything that she found was tossed to the floor in assorted piles and when she was finished she looked at the mess she had created. She was able to find clothes and makeup and a couple of potential weapons but there must have been something better in one of the hotel rooms. Someone had to be some kind of murderer-gun-specialist that would have the proper load out of weapons and ammunition.

She picked out a plain white t-shirt and a faded red zip up sweater, both of which she was absolutely delighted to find – the sweater doubly so as it was reminiscent of the sweater she had shredded while they were in the chopper – and set those aside as she looked through the purses. Eye liner, mascara, foundation – which wouldn't fit her skin tone – and lip gloss was the majority of the makeup she found and it was with her pilfered clothes in she left the room.

"Got a few things to bludgeon zombies with in there," she announced as she slid back into the bathroom to change. Closing the door behind her she slid off her shirt and tossed it aside and it was as she was lifting the clean, intact shirt that she noticed the scars and she paused. There was one stretching along her side and up her stomach, a single discolored line that drifted down the center of her chest…

She was suddenly reminded of her one particular summer vacation and how she had hid her body beneath a giant t-shirt because she was self conscious about a small outbreak of Eczema that left a few spaces on her stomach a bit splotchy and itchy. Looking back, it really wasn't something to worry about – it wasn't bad at all – and now she looked at herself and her skin was marred far beyond any eczema that anything had ever done (to her, at least). Turning so her back was to the mirror she glanced back over her shoulder to inspect the damage there, grimacing as more scars filled her vision (that, and she was in dire need of a replacement bra). When the bathroom door creaked open, she didn't move but simply let her eyes shift in the mirror to meet Rochelle's who let out a soft gasp.

"Zoey…"

The door opened a little wider before Rochelle was stepping inside, her body blocking the doorway as she reached out to touch her but she lowered her hand. "I'm sorry," she said gently. Zoey gave her a small smile and shrugged, lowering her eyes to the dirtied sink.

"It's, um," she shrugged again. "Couldn't be helped right? Zombie apocalypse and all."

"Girl, I bet some of these will fade." The woman suddenly looked down at her own torso and frowned deeply, closing her eyes. "Right?"

Another figure in the doorway, this one looking curious, "You two okay?"

"Ellis!" Rochelle moved to block Zoey from view but with the mirror and fun angles left her attempts in vein as the man looked into the mirror and locked eyes with Zoey.

"Zoey?"

Again, Zoey lifted the shirt and slid it over her head. "Yeah," her arms slid into the shirt as well and she was tugging the hem towards her waist. "We're okay." She looked down at the dirty sink yet again and she sighed. "I think."

**xXxX**

"Ellis!" Rochelle's entire body jolted and twisted, splaying her arms in an attempt to hide Zoey from his field of vision though it was a useless notion. The point where Zoey stood and the angle at which Ellis was standing made it incredibly simple to just look into the mirror. Ellis' eyes flickered over the scars and the marred flesh, the scabs and the bruises and then he made eye contact.

"Zoey?"

His intended girlfriend and/or wife began to slide her shirt on over her arms, not looking embarrassed but slightly upset and maybe ashamed? "Yeah," she said as the shirt's hem kissed her waist, a small bit of her midriff being left exposed. Her eyes drifted down the mirror as she pulled her ponytail from the neck of her shirt. "We're okay." There was a moment of uncertainty as her gaze focused on the sink. "I think."

_You're still beautiful,_ he wanted to say. _A few scars isn't ever going to change that._

"They don't mean nothin'," he said instead. "Just a piece of the past, a story – they don't change a thing." Her eyes seemed to lose focus for a moment before she was meeting his eyes in the mirror curiously. "You're still beautiful – those scars don't make a difference."

"Aw, Ellis!" Rochelle gushed and then looked to Zoey. "That was-"

"Yo, Ellis!" Ellis turned his head and looked back at Nick who was holding a baseball out towards him. "We're gonna try and find some guns." He was holding onto a table leg that had been removed from an overturned table. "Or at least a few more things that we can use as weapons," the conman said as an afterthought.

"How many rooms were there again?" Coach sounded tired but he was standing, holding his hands open and palms up towards the ceiling. They were swollen and bloody.

"Uh… Sixteen floors, one-hundred 'n' eighty-somethin' rooms. A few suites. There's gotta be something." He moved towards the door that they had filtered through only a few hours prior and as he did, he glanced back at Ellis and the girls who were standing in the doorway of the bathroom. "C'mon."

Ellis nodded as he followed the conman from the break room and into the lobby. The space was still pretty empty, the lone concierge zombie still patrolling the front of the building. Almost instantly, he began to scan the lobby for any other useful weapon, gesturing towards the stairwell and Nick nodded. "Alright, lets-"

"Hold on, hold on!" Coach exited the break room, swollen fingers wrapped around another table leg, a lone screw jutting out of the end. "If you think y'all are going alone-"

"Ro, steeling someone's purse isn't very… You know…" Nick made a small hand gesture as the two women exited the door, Rochelle holding a black, bedazzled purse. Her hand was wrapped securely within the straps.

"She filled it with hardback books," Zoey said, a third table leg in her hands.

Ellis grinned, that concierge zombie walking into a low coffee table in the sitting area and groaning because of it. "Well, let's head to the first floor, shall we?"

xXXXXx

Ellis, to say the absolute least, was surprised.

In movies and television and video games, there would always be those random weapons that were set up in the most convenient of places and it would seem that such a rule applied to real life. On the first floor they had found a fully armed pistol with a couple of extra clips left in the suitcase. This weapon was currently on reserve, tucked into Nick's jacket and they proceeded through the floors of the Marriot. They checked every room that they could, attacking any stragglers as they saw fit. It was a fairly easy task, all things aside.

It seemed, however, the higher they went the more cosmetic damage there was. The floors had large, gaping holes in them, walls had been smashed out in a variety of places and it made navigating the halls a little less productive as the group was suddenly on their toes. Some rooms were simply avoided, as no one was willing to make their way past the threshold, let alone open the door. "Jesus, Zo please be careful," Ellis breathed as he watched the girl slowly walk the length of a two-by-four that had been a part of the floor's foundation. Every so often, she would begin to teeter, her arms shooting out to try and counter balance her swaying weight and when she neared the center of the beam, she took a larger step in hopes to prevent the wood from bowing too much. He could catch her whispering softly, perhaps telling herself not to look down or giving herself a bit of a pep talk.

It was quite a stretch – it was a single strip of wood, that – after about four feet – met an intersection, a large chunk of wood that supported the structure, before another four feet of wood that lead to more flooring.

A little more than eight feet of slow, hesitant steps.

"Maybe we should just turn around," Rochelle murmured, "If we haven't found another gun by now, we probably aren't going to find another-"

"We haven't hit the suites yet," Nick countered, he too lowering his voice to just above a whisper.

Zoey slowed to a stop, her arms swaying out along her sides as she struggled to maintain balance. "Whispering isn't going to prevent me from falling," she stated, and then took a slow step forward. "However, if you would refrain from making an_eeeeeee_ –" she teetered far to the side then, and then quickly righted herself. "Sudden and loud noises, that would be appreciated."

She took a couple of long steps and stopped once she got to the other side of the walkway and once there, she sighed heavily. "Alright, Ellis you're next," Nick stated.

"Eh? Shouldn't Ro be next?"

The woman shook her head. "I am totally fine with staying over here, actually. There has to be a gun store nearby, right?"

Nick shot her a look. "Yeah, and it's probably already been picked clean."

Ellis sighed and took a step forward, already feeling his gut twist with discomfort. The first couple of steps were unsettling but as he took a couple of steps forward it became a little easier – so long as he ignored the wood bowing under his weight. "Holy…."

It was with a sudden rush of movement, that made Ellis flinch, his eyes shooting up towards Zoey as she stood, her back to him as she looked down the hallway.

"Zoey?"

She didn't move, simply stared towards the end of the hallway and with the lack of motion coming from her shoulders , Ellis would say that she was holding her breath. Ellis dropped his eyes back to the stretch of wood and urged his feet to move faster.

"Zoey, what is it?" Coach asked, and Ellis had to stop moving to look up yet again.

"I think there might be something…" She took a couple more steps forward, nearing the end of the hallway.

"Zoey, _wait!" _Ellis hissed.

xXxX

Something around the corner was _moving_ and Zoey, quite frankly, didn't like it. She didn't want to wait for whatever it was to burst out from around the corner and kill her and yet she knew that confronting the thing on her own wasn't an option… Yet it was something that she felt obligated to check.

"Zoey, _wait!"_

She did, she turned and looked at Ellis, showing just how uneasy she was with that _sound _coming from somewhere near her general vicinity. She made a brief hand motion, signaling down the hallway. He shook his head urgently, silently telling her to stay put until he got over there though she was already trying to decide whether or not she was going to try and head back the way she had came.

"Zoey."

She looked to Nick, who held up the pistol before he underhanded it to her. She flinched rather visibly as the man had just _thrown_ her a gun. It had been one of the top ten on Bill's No-No list.

"_Hey Zoey," Francis called out to her as she searched for a cup or a water bottle in the midst of the junk that filled the safe house. So far, she had been unsuccessful and she cursed. Bill wouldn't be happy – he was never happy whenever the safe house had already been picked clean. _

"_Nothing over here, Bill!" she called out, giving the rubbish that had gathered on the floor a good kick. "Nothing but empty boxes and old newspaper." _

"_How 'bout a lighter?" _

"_Your BIC running low?"_

"Zoey!"

_Sighing, the college girl whirled around towards Francis just as a large pistol was being tossed her way. She yelped, her hands reaching out and slapping her hands over the firearm, catching it two-handed like she would a Frisbee. She examined the gun for a moment, not thinking much of it. _

"_Did you just _throw _a gun?" The stern voice cut through the air and both Francis and Zoey turned towards Bill. When Francis didn't respond right away Bill stomped his way forward, his footfalls sounding so loud in the empty room. The gun was yanked from Zoey's hands and with a quick glance Bill sighed, tossing the end of his cigarette. "Jesus Christ, Francis! The safety isn't even on!" _

_The biker shrugged. "I thought it was." _

"_You _thought _it was? Francis, are you… If I ever see either of you throwing a Goddamn gun, I will pistol whip the stupidity outta your skull." _

"_Shit, old man I thought the safety was on!"_

"_Don't do it again." _

"_Bill-"_

"_Shut the fuck up, Francis."_

Despite the fact that the gun didn't go off and despite the fact that this time, the safety was on, Zoey stared at Nick and then made a quick hand motion. "Are you crazy?" Bill's outburst had stuck with her – as did the story he later told about a gun exploding in a man's hand despite the safety being on.

"Safety's on."

"I say again… Are you-"

Pain.

Bone crushing, searing pain.

She tried to take a breath but something was crushing her rib cage and it tightened with that breath she took – like a snake suffocating a rat. She opened her eyes and saw a bulbous bicep and somewhere, in the midst of her heart beating in her ears, she was distinctly aware of her name being yelled. She squeezed her finger in the hand that had been holding onto the gun, and she shuddered as her body was lifted into the air and then slammed back into the ground.

xXxX

The charger had vaulted from the closest room only seconds after the pistol had been thrown her way. She was holding it, her finger poised on the trigger as Ellis took another hesitant step forward and just as she made to point at the weapon in her hand, the thing crashed through the wall and had grabbed Zoey. The gun flung from her hand at first impact and a choked gurgle drifted from her throat.

"Zoey!" It was a collective yell from three individuals with a tossed in, "Oh, fuck!" tossed into the mixture. Ellis urged himself forward, throwing his body to the ledge and reaching for the pistol. While he lifted the gun and aimed, the charger lifted Zoey from the floor and slammed her body back down against the floor.

Ellis fired, trying to aim for its puny head but when the gun clicked on empty, it showed no sign of slowing. It proceeded to yell, proceeded to slam Zoey's body into the floor. Raising the gun over his head, Ellis vaulted his body forward, slamming the end of the gun into his neck but it wasn't him that ended the thrashing that was being dealt to Zoey's body it was the floor splintering beneath them – the floor that gave way under the force administered by the charger and the weight that was bunching on the weakening floor.

Together, Zoey, Ellis and the charger fell through the floor and as they collided with the landing beneath them, they proceeded to fall, the wood easily giving way beneath them.

Xxxxxxx

And that's the end of that one.  
I consider it to be a seventeen page filler chapter….

I will work on the next chapter with my free time (Free time being that five to seven hour span after work where I'm not cleaning, playing CoD or Minecraft… ).

Also… Have a great Zombie Appreciation Month! :D


	6. The Situation

:/

xXxX

There were three things that instantly jumped to her attention when Zoey came to.

One, being the fact that she _ached_; her torso felt tender and battered. Her breathing didn't feel quite right and though it didn't exactly hurt every time she inhaled it instantly went to the top of her worry list. Her eyes remaining closed, she tested her fingers and curled her toes. She twisted her neck, first to the right and then to the left and despite a little bit of stiffness she took instant relief in the fact that it wasn't broken.

Two was the fact that she was being pressed into the ground and that there was a living, breathing person flush against her. As her mind managed to emerge from the pained fog, she became aware that she was in a sort of standing position, the wall and the breathing body keeping her from the ground. It was then that she felt the arm around her waist, the contour of a chest against hers and shaky, deep breaths being puffed against her neck and shoulder.

Third, and finally, when she opened her eyes she took note that everything was pitch black. She blinked a couple of times, waiting for color and light to flood her vision, passing off the darkness with a brief black out – a head rush perhaps – but there was nothing. No color, no light. She gasped audibly, trying to reach up and rub her eyes. _Oh, fuck! I'm blind! _

"_Sssh, I know you don't want me touching you, but-" _Ellis was whispering, his breath hot against the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

_Touching – oooh. _

Funny how that whole near-rape thing fell from her memories when she started to fuss over the fact that she was _fucking blind!_

"I can't-!"

Ellis' hand clasped tightly over her mouth just as there was a loud gasp, followed by a harsh growl. Zoey could feel Ellis' heart thunder against her chest, his body motionless as he whispered, "_Witch_." His lips, while forming the word, pursed and brushed her skin. As if on cue, there was a sniffle and a shuddering sob and Zoey's eyes bulged.

She was blind and there was a witch?

Sweet Baby Jesus.

His hand slowly lowered from her mouth, his nose brushing against her jaw line as he turned his head. "_Ssh_."

"_Can't see," _Zoey breathed.

A small head shake, "_Dark." _

It took a moment to process but once it did, Zoey's entire body slumped with relief. What with the recent abuse to her head she could have swore that she had lost her sight. She felt a giggle bubble up from her throat, a gentle snicker that made her shoulders shake and -

The sobbing intensified, seeming to grow closer though it was slightly muffled.

She stopped mid-laugh.

_Fuck laughing – Not being blind isn't that funny anyway._

His head moved again, this time letting his lips level with her ear. He sighed gently, his body still pinning hers to the wall. "_Glad yer okay."_

She nodded, hesitantly making an attempt to straighten her body, though as she tried she found that her head bumped onto a ceiling of sorts and that her feet were pressing against the opposing wall, one of Ellis's legs resting against the wall between hers. How did he even get them into such a tight space with her unconscious?

"_Hurt?"_

"_No." _

"_Sure?" _

It was then, that Ellis turned his head yet again, his forehead pushing against her temple and he stayed there. For a fleeting moment, she wondered how long he was going to stay that way. A brief flash of last night forced an intense bout of discomfort to bubble into her system but for the sake of staying alive, she remained still as Ellis settled against her rigid body. The things that had happened the night before – the things that he could be doing…

_But…_

He could shift his knee up into her groin and push his hips into her thigh. He could have easily pinned her hands and used her to get his rocks off and she would be absolutely helpless. He could push his hips to hers, grind against her body and use her and Zoey wouldn't be able to fight against him. She didn't like that. Not one bit.

However, it was then that one key factor in last night's scenario, as well as her present predicament, was finally acknowledged.

Last night Ellis, Nick and Coach saved her and Rochelle – saved them from something really, really bad. Yet, despite that fact, the girls still shrank away and avoided them as if they had been the ones to make the attack on their bodies. Last night, Ellis had beaten the crap out of one of the three men and the other one died with the fire while the third was shot. Yet that didn't matter, contact from anything remotely male simply didn't feel right…

And now, she was afraid of the things that Ellis _could _do – the things he wasn't. He came to her rescue on the bridge, pulled her from the water in the swamp and again protected her in the gauntlet. He prevented her body from being used, stopped the charger from breaking her spine in half and now he was protecting her from a witch – and how did she repay him?

Zoey hesitantly tilted her head towards him, allowing her limp arms to finally budge. The fingers of her right hand curled into the t-shirt covering his chest, her left arm reaching out and encircling his torso in return and then she sighed contently – comfortably as her forehead rested against his.

"_Thank you." _

The sound of sharp nails against wood echoed through the enclosure, a gentle sniffle proceeding the sound and then a shuddering breath. Gripping Ellis' shirt, Zoey squeezed her eyes and for the first time in a really, really, long time she prayed.

_Though __I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil. _

Ellis shifted, hugging Zoey closer as he nudged her towards the corner of their hiding place, leaving his back to the assumed opening as he shielded her with his body, readying himself for an attack. All it would take would be one sound, one thing to set the Witch off and she would be tearing into the thin, wooden doors that separated them.

_For thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me…_

Zoey tried to pull Ellis with her, bringing him away from the doorway but he resisted. His arm shifted and she felt his hand brush her neck before resting against her cheek. Zoey wondered why Ellis was trying to act as her meat shield. He had saved her countless times and deep down, Zoey felt that it was her turn to save. He easily over powered her, easily pressing her into the corner as they waited for something to set the Witch off – as if one of them, at any moment, would sneeze and the creature would come tearing through the wood to kill them.

_Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life. Because I carry a big stick and I'm the meanest mother fucker in the valley!_

"_Ell-"_ His head tilted rather abruptly and kissed her, gently enclosing her upper lip with both of his own and effectively silenced the poor girl.

xXxXx

Somehow, Ellis had managed to catch himself completely off guard.

In the midst of trying to get Zoey to safety, her limp body made it nearly impossible to get her into the closet – and away from the witch – without settling themselves in such a compromising position. They each ended up straddling the other's leg as he desperately tried to get both of their bodies into the wardrobe and even though it helped him keep her upright, it made for some hesitant movement when she tried to pull her up into his arms. Her thigh would brush his groin and vice versa and he knew that even with the current circumstances she would have been jumpy and scared if she were awake when he was getting into their hiding spot.

This would be everything but good.

When she stirred from unconsciousness he got himself ready to fight against a frightened Zoey, thinking that she would allow her body to slip into a spazm of motion as she tried to ward off an intruder but instead, he had to settle for covering her mouth, keeping her upright and eventually feeling her go absolutely rigid when the memories of the previous night began to doubtlessly flood her memory.

But then, he also felt her relax as if she was suddenly okay with the situation, like she had managed to find a reason to trust him – as if there hadn't been any reasons before.

He didn't care for the reasoning, so long as she was okay and alive – Ellis was happy.

Shifting against her, he had allowed himself to relax, wanting for the circumstances to be different, for them to be in a dark corner at a club or a bar, whispering into each other's ears about, well, not so rated G things but of course that wasn't the case. They were in this situation because of the witch (_How we missed her on our way up is beyond me,_ he thought bitterly). As the sniffling and the crying got louder, Ellis had tried to angle Zoey further back into the shallow wardrobe, wanting to put that extra distance between her and the immediate danger but he should have known that she would catch on and he should have known that she wouldn't like it.

But that was how he ended up surprising himself, really.

When she fought against his motions, he nudged her a little more urgently and that's when she went to speak, "El-" the syllable itself was too loud and he found himself dropping his lips to hers.

Perhaps the reaction was brought upon them due to the situation. Close quarters, impending death – it had been the easiest way to silence her (not like he had to justify a reason to kiss the girl) and so he took it.

Or maybe it happened because it was something that he had wanted to do since the moment he saw her. He wanted to pull her close and kiss her in one of those kisses that were in the movies. The searing, show stopping kisses that brought on the happy endings.

Maybe he did it because it was the last thing he wanted to do before he died.

All he knew, was that her body was responsive, lips pliant and soft and welcoming and _delicious. _

Relieving the pressure, he felt a soft huff of breath passed through Zoey's mouth. He pictured her eyes half-lidded, lips parted ever-so-slightly as she gazed towards him, her hands still clutching his body. Licking his lips he tilted his head forward as his thumb, which had been cradling the form of her jaw, brushed over hesrs. A minute amount of pressure from his thumb parted her lips and he was closing the distance between them again.

He figured that if he was going to die, that this would be the perfect send off.

xXxX

"I'm gonna kill him, I'm gonna kill him, I'm gonna kill him-"

"Francis."

"Fuck hillbillies, fuck the south. Fuck zombies – "

"Dammit, Francis, will you listen?"

The biker's eyes narrowed on the businessman as he proceeded to row this _stupid _boat up the _stupid _stream and _stupid _Louis was just sitting there with his _stupid_ bum leg and with the rain and the wind and the zombies and…

Francis was having a bad day.

"Look, man, it looks like we got to a city – maybe there's a gas station so we can fill the tank and then you won't have to keep rowing."

"Fuck that, I say we find a place to sleep," Francis rumbled, the oars delving deep into the water before he was leaning back and easing the boat forward. "We should find something, maybe get you some crutches." He knew that it wasn't technically the best idea as running around on crutches wouldn't work well when being attacked by a horde of infected but his leg wasn't getting better. Supporting an entire other body wasn't doing well for Francis either.

"Alright, well let's find a place to get out of the water, then we can work from there I guess?"

Francis nodded.

He missed Bill horribly, he hated being the leader. It was one thing, running around with his motorcycle and his gang of friends – they would cause a bit of trouble here and there but no one's life was hanging in the balance and none of those lives were relying on him so heavily. With Zoey there it had been easy, she had taken a sliver of the leader role and she took better care of Louis.

Really, Francis and Louis often had difficulties with getting along – it was his optimism. It was stupid and too wishful and it pissed Francis off. Zoey was equal parts cynic, optimist and smartass and it meshed with his personality wonderfully.

"I think I see a hotel off that way," Louis made a gesture towards a rather tall building that loomed over the canal. Francis nodded his head, trying to find a better access point to the roads as he continued to row. They had a couple of guns with extremely limited ammunition, though Francis was confident that they would find some extra weapons. Bill always had great luck when finding ammo but with him gone, and Zoey gone…

"I think we can get to street from over here," Francis told him, holding one oar into the water, and then pulling the other back towards him a couple of times. The boat took a hard turn and they came in contact with the shore. With the boat in place, Francis moved to his feet and reached for his shotgun. "Stay here and let me check."

"Are you sure, I can-"

"Louis," he said his name softly as he gave the man a pointed look. "Stay here."

Frowning, he nodded and reached for his pistol as Francis stepped onto the grassy hillside and climbed the slope. He stopped once he reached the top, swiveling his gun from one side and to the other and was momentarily astounded when he only saw a handful of infected in his immediate vicinity. They staggered and stumbled this way and that, looking towards some far off location as they groaned and growled.

Sinking back down towards the water, Francis went back for Louis, grabbing a hold of his arm and hoisting him from the boat and onto land. Louis' arm instantly went around Francis' large neck and he placed weight upon his good leg, hopping forward a couple of times. "Alright, let's take it easy," he grumbled. Francis guided the man up the hill side, stopping again once they reached the top.

"Okay, we make our way down this way," he pointed with his shotgun, finger on the trigger. "Then we follow the main road into town there, find a place to hangout for the night."

"Alright," Louis said, keeping his eyes trained on the infected that moved around them obliviously. "Take it slow-"

"I will fuckin' carry you if I have to, Louis. Don't think I won't."

And with that, he was guiding Louis down the road as quickly as he could. He got winded rather quickly, taking on the bulk of Louis' weight and keeping a well-paced walk, but Louis struggled and the fact that he kept looking back, kept looking at the infected, was slowing them down.

"Louis-"

"They're comin' this way, man."

"Hurry the fuck, up then."

"Oooh, shit man!"

Cursing, Francis lowered his body to a kneeling position. "Get on."

"_Franci-"_

"Get the fuck on, and keep your junk away from my ass!" Louis didn't move but instead, he lifted his pistol and took the first shot as the pack of infected began to run their way. "Sonnova _bitch!" _Straightening, Francis did the first thing that he could – the only thing that he could. He lifted Louis from the ground and dropped him over his shoulder before he began to run.

"_Oooh, shiiiiiiiiit!"_

"Shut up and shoot the damn things!" Francis huffed as he made his way down the road. There was gunfire, rapid and close. Deep down Francis knew that Louis would be running out of bullets very soon and when that time came, things wouldn't be so pretty.

"Fuckin'… Hillbilly…" He swore.

xXxXxX

Nick was, well, he was torn.

It was clear that Ellis, Zoey and that Charger had plummeted through at least two floors until coming to a full and complete stop. He had watched them for a moment, seeing that Ellis was up and moving only moments after he had fallen. He had landed on top of the Charger – which was dead, and that was really convenient – which had partially landed on Zoey.

That was okay though. She was unconscious before they broke through the first floor anyway and when someone goes slack like that, the muscles didn't tense and thus there should be no breakage.

_Or something like that._

When Ellis got to his feet, with slow movements and a low groan, running his hands over his neck and then he froze – staring down the hallway in a rather worried manner. "_Shit, shit…"_

"Ellis, sweetie," Rochelle called, gazing down at him. "Are you o-"

He looked up through the destroyed flooring, his index finger pointedly moving over his lips the world renown "Shoosh" motion. He turned to look down the hall once again, shifting awkwardly before springing into action. The charger's oversized arm was pried off of Zoey's body, and then he was lifting her from the ground. He had managed to get her body draped over his shoulder and then he pointed in the direction he had been looking.

"Hillbilly?"

"_Witch!" _He whispered loudly, and then pointed down the opposite direction before vanishing from view.

And that right there?

That was where Nick found himself to be torn.

Did they go downstairs, gun blazing – _No guns. We have no guns. _– and try to get to Ellis and Zoey and kill the witch?

Or…

Did they continue to make their way down this floor and hope to _find _weapons and then go kill the witch and then find Ellis and Zoey and hope that they weren't dead?

Conundrum.

He knew what Rochelle and Coach's decisions would be, he knew without having to ask and that was because they were both rather predictable. That wasn't really a bad thing, he had come to enjoy the three – four if Zoey was counted, and he did count her. She was a valuable part of the team, an experienced gun.

Plus, it was fun to flirt with her and watch Ellis get pissed.

"Alright, let's get going." Nick took a step towards the caved-in flooring and listened to the expected rebuttals.

"We can't just leave them down there!"

"Where do you think yer goin', Suit?"

Nick sighed and turned towards them, ready to jump up onto his soap box. "Okay, look. Ellis and Zoey are, well…" he glanced down the pit just as the Witch stumbled by, her long fingers dragging against the wall. "They're screwed, really. Now we can run down there and attack the lovely lady with a table leg and a purse full of books, or we can find some actual weapons and actually stand a chance against whatever's down there."

They both seemed to contemplate this though it was Coach who answered first. "We can't chance it. If our numbers are cut then we'll be done for anyway."

"I understand that, but really, what chance do we have?"

Rochelle was still standing near the lip of the destroyed floor, a frown creasing into her usually pretty features. "We gotta try," the burly man insisted and then, as if that was the end of the conversation, he turned and began to make his way back down the hall.

Nick grabbed onto the man's shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. For a moment he thought that Coach was going to whirl around and punch him, but that wouldn't be Coach. He was a gentle giant so long as there were no zombies added into the equation. "Look, that thing down there is going to tear us apart if we go down there with nothing."

"What about-"

"_HEY! YOU DUMB BITCH!" _

Both men whirled to look at Rochelle, who was now on her hands and knees, shouting down through the layers of flooring. There was a brief pause, and then she was yelling again. "_COME UP HERE AND GET ME!"_

"Rochelle, what the _fuck _are you doing?"

He had once seen a Witch _chase _Coach down an incredibly long stretch of road. It was a misfire that set her off, a bullet not being loaded in the chamber and it seemed that the simple click of the gun set her off. She had vaulted up to her feet and chased him down the road. They had been luck then, able to kill the infected woman before she dealt any serious damage to Coach.

Nick had never seen such a large man move so fast in his entire life.

"We gotta get her away from them somehow, right?"

It seemed that that was the cue for the Witch to snarl and growl. It was a somewhat distant sound but it set Nick on edge all the same. He took a few steps away from Rochelle – _crazy broad – _and towards the stairwell. "Okay, you made your point, Rochelle," he hissed.

Coach reached to grab her, touching her shoulder. "Come-"

"_HEEEEEEY!"_

"Oh shit," Coach breathed, and then gave Rochelle a tug. "Oh, no, no, n- Rochelle!" Another snarl, closer now, followed by an irate growl. The woman lifted her book-filled bag above her head, perched on her knees next to the hole, and then she chucked it down into the opening.

In that moment of calm before the storm, Nick pieced together the events that he had not seen. She had got it to find her, and when it did…

A loud, high pitched scream erupted from below them which finally got Rochelle to her feet.

_She just had to piss it off._

Both Rochelle and Coach began to run down the hallway, disregarding the caution that they had used on their way to this particular point. As the two ran, Nick found that he had an overwhelming curiosity – one of which was fully sated as soon as he leaned forward and found that the Witch was only a single floor below and was priming herself to make a jump for-

"_Oh, fuck!"_

He turned tail and ran after his two companions, telling himself that he was going to kick Rochelle's ass when he next got the chance. He glanced back, seeing long fingers gripping the edge of the broken-down flooring, followed by that white hair and that banshee screaming.

_That is, if there is a later._

xXxxXx

Zoey was…

_Oh…_

Zoey was…

_Oh, God, his lips are amazing!_

She was rather content, being crammed in some closet, in some hotel, in some city. Initially, when Ellis had made his move, it set Zoey on edge. Immediate discomfort flooded her body like a tidal wave but for the life of her, she couldn't make a move to push him back. As his mouth shifted over hers, and his tongue brushed along her lower lip she began to settle. She began to mentally repeat some encouraging words like a mantra and it seemed to work pretty well.

_I'm safe, he's not like them. He's not like them. He's not like them. I'm safe._

When they parted, Zoey felt her cheeks instantly warm. His breath fanned her moist lips, the arm around her back tightening a bit before he parted her lips and closed the distance between them. This time, she was a little more prepared so she allowed herself to respond. The tip of her tongue touched his as her mantra continued to roll around in her mind. Ellis sighed audibly, expertly guiding his tongue along hers for just a moment and then he was reigning himself in, just a little, it seemed.

That was when she relaxed – no mantra needed. He was keeping himself in check, seeming to want something more but not daring to take it. His lips worked against hers, enclosing her lower lip, pecking at her top and his lips were just so…

They were wonderfully pliant, kissably so. She had never really noticed.

Her mind delved and emerged, drifting from foggy pondering to lucid thoughts. She wondered why he was kissing her, if it had a purpose or if he had those particular feelings for her or if it was purely circumstantial. She didn't stop to ask, she didn't want to know.

If these were her final moments, she wanted to enjoy them.

"_HEY! YOU DUMB BITCH!"_

Both Ellis and Zoey jumped, Ellis hitting his head on the top of the wardrobe while Zoey flinched. She whirled her head and stared, blindly at what would be the opening of the closet. With her eyes adjusting to the darkness, she was able to see minor details of the interior – like how there was a lone coat on a hanger behind Ellis' head and how he too was looking towards the opening as well, his body as still as hers.

There was a snarl from outside of their hiding place, followed by rapid footfalls and screaming.

"_COME UP HERE AND GET ME!"_

Zoey shifted. Was that Rochelle?

"_HEEEEEEY!"_

Slowly, very slowly, Zoey reached past Ellis and pushed on the door, allowing it to swing open with a soft creak. The space before them was clear but just to be sure, neither of them moved until the screaming seemed to be further away. "Ro is gettin' somethin' real good for Christmas," Ellis commented, taking her hand and guiding her into the hallway.

"If we make it to Christmas."

He didn't respond, but proceeded to take her down the hallway. "You still feelin' alright?" She stumbled when she tried to take a look into a couple of the rooms that they may have bypassed. "Zoe?"

She nodded, trying to fall into strides beside him as opposed to being dragged after him. "Yeah, I think I'm okay." He wasn't mentioning the kiss that they had shared just minutes before and she sure as hell wasn't going to be bringing it up, but it was something that was clearly going to be lingering in the back of her mind. She almost visibly grimaced when they entered the stairwell, the sounds that filled the enclosure disturbingly loud.

"_Fuck, fuck, fuck!"_

"_Hold the door!"_

"_Rochelle, I am gonna kick your ass!"_

There was screaming and the sound of _something _scraping over a metal door. Zoey took a few steps up, only to flinch when Rochelle, Coach and Nick went storming past them her. Nick grabbed her wrist as he passed, pulling her after him. "Turn and run! Go!" Ellis easily fell into step. "Come on, down the stairs. Dammit, Zoey come _on!"_

Zoey tried to move a bit faster, but found that when she tried, she would start stumbling down the stairs after the group. She understood the situation, understood that their life was hanging in the balance but her feet didn't seem to cooperate – her body numb. They had made it down at least four or five flights before the infuriated screams completely filled the stairwell.

"_Oh… Shit…"_

"Get out on the next floor!" Coach bellowed over the screaming. They filed out of the stairwell, letting the door slam shut behind them and they proceeded down the hall, Nick's hand still grasping her wrist in an alarmingly tight hold. The five some proceeded to run, even after the sound of the Witch's screams began to fade as they distance between them grew.

"Keep goin'," Ellis called, seeming to slow down to count their numbers. They went to the room furthest from the stairwell and packed themselves in before closing the door. The room was lit by the natural light filtering in from the broken window, and things seemed to be mostly in place. There wasn't blood, bodies – it was empty. Zoey, being the last into the room, was sure to lock the door, quickly moving back as Coach and Ellis started to drag the chairs towards the door. Rochelle had pushed herself into the furthest corner of the room, shaky and wide eyed.

"You," Nick had pointed to her. "Are you _stupid?"_

Looking hurt, Rochelle crossed her arms. "It was better than your idea."

"No, my idea was to get guns and _then _go kill the bitch. Not… Throw my purse and hope she doesn't come shooting from the _fucking _floor!"

Ellis stepped forward then, moving out to comfort Rochelle. "Ro, you _saved _us. Ignore him, right?" He started to reach out towards her but stopped. Zoey watched him, finding that she admired the way he kept himself in check around Rochelle and the way he kept himself from going too far in the closet-

_No. Stop thinking about it. Stop it, stop it, stop it._

"Whatever," Nick huffed, turning to help Coach lifted the couch and prop it against the door's frame. "Just… Forget it."

Zoey plopped moved to the window, carefully stepping over the broken glass as she looked outside. They obviously couldn't stay in the building, there was a pissed off witch and God only knew what the condition the upper floors were in. Currently, they were about five stories from the ground which effectively destroyed the idea of possibly _jumping_.

For a moment – just a moment – she toyed with the idea of vaulting out the window and diving into a well placed hay stack. Then assassinating bitches.

Dropping her head, she allowed her eyes to close.

Oh, the things she would do in order to get a hold of a jar of peanut butter and a sleeve of Oreos.

"You okay, baby girl?" She turned her head, seeing Coach standing beside her at a pretty fair distance from her. He still looked pretty beaten up, hands and parts of his face a little swollen. Taking a small step forward, Zoey leaned in and perched her forehead against his shoulder squeezing her eyes closed. "… Zoey?"

She shook her head in a negative motion but then straightened, giving him a small and forced smile.

xXxXx

They had made it.

Sitting comfortable in an enclosed resting area, Francis and Louis allowed their bodies to ease themselves out of their adrenal high. Francis had found some Advil gel capsules for Louis and after popping a couple, he had leaned back into the sofa and closed his eyes. "I didn't think we were going to make it." Francis didn't reply, glancing at their empty weapons and cursing himself. He would have been able to conserve more ammunition if Louis hadn't been on his shoulder. The added weight and the odd angle for Louis resulted in a mess of missed shots. If Bill was there, he would have been absolutely livid.

…

"_Francis," the older male approached him one night as they were settling down in a designated safe house, equip with heavy steel door and barred windows. Zoey was curled in a worn down recliner, leaving the couches to the two men. Francis, who had been peering into the medicine cabinet on the wall, turned and glanced at the Green Beret with quirked eyebrows. _

"_Yeah…?"_

_The man was smoking – he was always smoking – and he pointedly blew out a puff of smoke before taking another drag. "You've shot guns before, right?"_

_The biker snorted. "Come on, old man! Of course I have."_

"_Mind… Whould ya mind if I asked you a question then?"_

_Francis had turned to him fully by then, his thick arms crossing over his large chest. He had tried to use his size to frighten the man a couple of times but it didn't work – it actually worked against him, earning him a good smack to the back of his scarred skull. Zoey, however, he liked to mess with Zoey. He would crowd her against walls when trying to slip past her, using the bulk of his body to make her eyes widen. It was flattering and as far as 'last woman on earth' terms went, Zoey definitely wasn't a bad go-to girl. _

"_Sure, Bill. Shoot."_

"_Why in the hell are you letting the kid out shoot you?"_

_Francis blinked. "I beg your pardon?"_

"_Do you know how much ammunition you wasted? Firing from your hip isn't making you a badass, son. It's making you an idiot."_

"_What the fuck are you-"_

"_You fired _three _times to take down _one _person, Francis!" He was shouting, but it was only because Francis had started his own shouting. "You need to aim and fire – you need to use your head!" With that, he threw his cigarette to the ground and stomped out, ending the conversation before he stocked off to his chair. "Zoey's got a better track record than you do."_

_Francis pointed at Zoey, who was watching the two with wide eyes. "She is not a better shot than I am!"_

"_Shut up Francis."_

"_No! I can shoot much better than some _chick!"

_Bill pulled his beret down over his eyes. "Go to sleep, Francis." _

_Grumbling, Francis plopped into his chair. He was fully aware of Zoey's glare and didn't try to dissuade her gaze. On more than one occasion, he admitted (silently) that she was a great shot and when Francis claimed it was the gun she had shrugged and said that it had been her dad's. _

"_Go tah bed, Zoey," Francis ordered._

"_You're a jerk," she grumbled. "A hip-firing jerk."_

…

They were going to be _fucked _if they didn't find some more ammunition, some different weapons – anything that would be remotely helpful! That's where he got snagged, however. Finding weapons and ammunition would be great – fantastic even – but risking his life to get it? He had admitted to himself long ago that Louis, in his current state, was holding him back and even risking his life. Leaving Louis in their adopted safe room would be the best bet but, again, he would be putting his life on the line.

If he died, then Louis would probably die. Then what?

Zoey would get to New Orleans and be looking for them and they wouldn't be there. She would wait and no one would show up. Maybe she would find their bodies, maybe she wouldn't.

_Fuck._

"Louis… stay here."

The man shifted, fighting against a wave of drowsiness that had seemed to hit him pretty hard. "Uh? Where are you going?"

Francis, taking his empty shotgun, moved towards the doorway. "Just do what I fuckin' say, dammit." With that, he opened the door and stepped out into the hotel lobby, listening as Louis shifted and called after him.

"Francis-!"

The door closed, and Francis began his search, walking towards the stairwell.

xXxxXx

It was starting to get dark and the fivesome was still barricaded in their fifth-story bedroom. Rochelle was stretched out on the bed, her arms curled around a big fluffy pillow while Nick rested beside her, glaring up at the ceiling. Coach had taken to snoozing on the floor, while Zoey took the corner of the couch. It was a decent sized room that they were in, they could have done a lot worse.

Ellis lingered from the window and glanced towards Zoey, her eyes were closed but she was awake. Her eyes shifted irregularly under her lids and so Ellis moved forward. Since the whole wardrobe scenario he had been trying to give her some space but he felt drawn to her. He had watched her as she gave Coach that strained, un-Zoey like smile. He watched as she proceeded to stare out the window, watched as she finally lingered to the couch to sit down and he had been watching her ever since. Eventually though, he got tired of watching and he went to move towards her, but instead he ended up at the window, looking outside. Now, though, he was finally lowering himself beside her, his fingers brushing over the back of her hand. "C'mere, darlin'," he whispered.

He scooted down the couch a little ways, tugging her with him as he gradually stretched his body out. The end was result was having him stretched out along the back of the couch, her body in front of his own. She had went to rest on her side, away from him, but he had stopped her, coaxing her onto her back so he could get a proper look at her.

"What's wrong?"

She shrugged her shoulders, lids lowering as she focused on her feet. "I don't know."

"Darlin'…" His hand settled on her hip as he pulled her further onto the couch. "You can talk to me, ya know."

Zoey looked up at him then, nodding. "I know."

Ellis fought the urge to frown at her response. Something didn't seem right but at the same time, it felt as though she was telling him the truth. Removing his hat, he lowered his head to his arm, which was curled under his head while the other was draped over her torso. "Just a feeling?"

She nodded. "No ammo, no guns, no weapons…" she let her eyes close. "… And there is a pissed Witch running around the building."

He leaned forward, his lips brushing against her temple. "We'll figure somethin' out, we always do." When she made no response, Ellis flexed his fingers against her rib cage, making her squirm and gasp as she tried to hide her laughter. When he allowed her to settle, he leaned a little closer. "Oh, someone is ticklish."

"S-sleeping," she breathed, trying to wiggle away from his hand, but he held her firm to him as she settled on her side. He relaxed beside her, one of his ankles resting between both of hers as he got comfortable.

"We should get some rest too," he told her.

"Someone should watch the window," she told him, peering at him from over her shoulder.

Ellis yawned, tucking her head under his chin. She made no fight against him and for that, he was thankful. Things would get better in the morning, they had to. They would get out of this room (He wasn't quite sure how, but he knew that they would), they would find some decent weapons and they would be headed to New Orleans which was a mere 8 miles away.

"Get some sleep, darlin'. I got you."

xXxxX

Yikes, I updated again…

I would say that it's the end of the world, but according to that old coot, Harold Camping, we've got a couple more months until something like that occurs.

I wish I could spout total and absolute nonsense and have millions of people believe me. :/


	7. The Missing

Alriiiiight, chapter 7 ('bout frickin time)…

This chapter isn't really all that eventful, there is a bit o' fluff, a bit of angst and some more actionless action.

The chapter progression is a bit odd, I wrote this in little bursts over the course of several months and none of it really fit together. I have edited it a handful of times but every time I go back to edit and reread I get bored and then drop it for several weeks before looking at it again.

Also, I would appreciate it if people would stop sending me their "OC Sheets". Any Original Characters used will be mine, and even then they will more than likely be abandoned or used as some tool before being killed in a highly merciless fashion.

So, ya know…

Stop it.

Also… Sorry I haven't updated.

Portal Kink Meme…

Also, Minecraft.

And Transformers fanfics.

And Battlefield 3, Modern Warfare 3, the husband looming over my shoulder, work…

And maybe writers block. I dunno.

xXxxxX

When Louis woke up and the drug-induced fog had lifted from his mind, he was distinctly aware that he was alone. There was no heavy breathing coming from the Biker as there normally was. Awake or sleeping, the larger of the two men was usually making some kind of noise. He would take apart his gun and reassemble it with practiced fingers the clinking of the gun's pieces filling the usually small room with sound, he would sort through ammunition and the bullets would make their own distinct sound depending on the size, when he was asleep there would be snoring, as soft as it may be, along with deep and heavy breaths. But as Louis carefully urged his body upright, his injured leg stiff in the splint that they had fashioned back at the bridge, he took note that there was no burly biker in sight. A twinge of panic began to rise throughout his system, sending his heart and thoughts into frantic overdrive.

_I'm alone._

He looked for his pistol but once he found the weapon, resting on the floor near the door, he remembered that he had used all of the ammunition they had for it. Along with his panic, guilt swelled in his chest and he closed his eyes tightly. Maybe that was why Francis had left - he had decided to cut his losses and get out while he could. With his good - well, better - leg, he stood, bringing the injured of the two limbs to a slight bend to keep the weight off of it.

There was an open door at the far end of the room - a bathroom. That aside, there was some damaged furniture and a bulletin board and...

_I am completely alone._

Cursing under his breath, he hopped towards a rounded table that held a number of papers and pamphlets. He got about three paces before he lost his balance and staggered. The weight that dropped onto his leg made lights flash just behind his eyes and pain to shoot into his calf-muscle and up into his hip. The limb instantly gave out and with a pained cry, Louis fell to the ground. His teeth clenched and he gasped for air like a fish out of water.

He had been abandoned, left to die in some hotel without any hope for survival. The helplessness he felt was overwhelming, overpowering that panic and that guilt and making his eyes prickle with unshed tears. Louis often took pride in his optimism. He had always managed to find the glass half-full even at the worst of times but now...

"I don't want to die," he told the room, his dirty hands reaching up and covering his face as if the furniture was judging his state of weakness. "Not like this." There was no response to his plea, no uplifting speeches or soft comforting words. Just the silence and his shuddering breaths as he tried to come to terms with his fate.

**xXxXxXx**

Ellis couldn't sleep, he had drifted off a couple of times but found that actually falling asleep was quite difficult. He was comfortable, incredibly so, he was tired and yet after about fifteen or twenty minutes of trying to fall asleep, he found himself with his eyes fixed on the broken window. He scolded the room's lack of security but made no move to make any corrections. Instead, he busied his mind by tracing small shapes along Zoey's exposed lower stomach and hips. The contrast between his callused fingertips and her silky skin brought Goosebumps to surface along Zoey's exposed skin. He wished that they were in his bed back home. He didn't care if they were just resting or if it was the aftermath of some sort of passionate bed-play - or maybe even the lead-up to said bed-play - he just wanted them to be at his house, content and happy and enjoying each other. Nuzzling the back of Zoey's neck with his nose, Ellis released a huff of breath and closed his eyes, allowing his mind to create that ideal moment...

_"Honey, I'm home!" The door swung shut behind him as he made his way into the two-bedroom house. His coveralls had long-since been half removed and tied along his waist, his hands and face still holding blotches of oil and grease from his long day at work. There was a voice that filtered into the hallway and he followed the source. His boots were removed as he walked, abandoning the shoes in the hallway before he opened the bedroom door. The sight that greeted him made his lips quirk into an almost blissful smile. _

_A brunette woman, wrapped snugly in a towel with her hair still dripping wet as she looked through the dresser for a change of clothes. A set of shorts and a tank top were on the floor near the foot of the bed, along her running shoes and an empty bottle of water. The mirror tucked against the wall offered the mechanic a more frontal view, her eyes downcast and her cheeks somewhat flushed from the warm water. _

_"Mm-mm-mm," Ellis hummed appreciatively and she looked up, her head turning so she was looking at him. Snorting, she threw a roll of socks at him but missed. _

_"Oh hush," Zoey told him on a laugh. Her hand gripped the top of her towel as she resumed her search for some fresh clothes. "How was work?" _

_He crossed the room, dirty hands reaching out and gripping her hips as he moved to stand behind her. "It was work," he told her, brushing her hair to the front of her shoulder with the back of his hand. With her neck exposed to him, he leaned in and in response she leaned away, her hips pressing back into his as she leaned forward._

_"Nuh-uh, not until you shower!"_

_"But baaaa-by!" he whined playfully, dragging his nose against her shoulder. "I need me some sugar."_

_Zoey squealed when Ellis pressed his dirty cheek into her neck and nuzzled, transferring the mess onto her lovely skin. "No- Ellis! I just got out of the-" a bought of laughter shook her frame as he wiggled his fingers along her hips and rib cage. In the midst of her laugher, Ellis lifted her slender frame from the ground and then tossed her onto the bed. He followed her, caging her body with his own. _

_"Mmmm," he hummed as he gave the towel a tug, causing the knot to release and expose her chest to his searching eyes. "All I wanted was some sugar," he told her as she calmed down from her laughter. _

_"Ellis you're all greasy and dirty," she whined as he nudged her chin with the bridge of his nose, causing her to expose her neck. He kissed along her throat, his tongue skimming along her clean skin. His fingers proceeded to tug at the towel until her body was completely exposed to him and when she was, a low hum of appreciation was emitted. _

_He dragged his cheek against the front of her shoulder and neck. "You are too, darlin'," he informed her. His mouth traveled down to her chest, pecking at the valley between twin mounds of flesh and despite her objections, her hands were removing his hat, her fingers tangling into his hair. His hands began to tug at the knot in his coveralls, trying to remove the layers of clothing that prevented him from getting full body contact. Ellis straightened, his shirt being tossed aside, followed by his coveralls and briefs. "Ya know," he told her as he dragged his nails against her sides. "If you woulda just dropped that towel and dragged me into the shower..."_

_She laughed, smiling up at him as her body arched. "That would have been too easy, though."_

_"'n' now ya getta take another shower with me." He looked down between their bodies and began to position himself. _

_He was hard and wanting, she was warm and ready and-_

Holy shit. His eyes shot open. He was _hard_. He was _hard _and pressed against her backside while she slept and... _Oh God. _In a flurry of rushed movements, he grabbed the sleeves of his coveralls and wedged them between _that_ part of him and her rear. For the life of him, he couldn't will his body to relax. His hand was gripping her hip, his eyes wide and shoulders tense. His gaze dipped down to her face, trying to see if he had possibly disturbed her but as far as he could tell, she was still asleep.

He suddenly felt like a pervert.

_I'm sorry,_ he silently told her and his lips brushed against the back of her neck. At the simple contact, his mind shot to a rather graphic image. He saw her back facing him with him lying behind her as they were now, but she was awake and she was gasping as her hips shifted back against his and-

_Stop, stop, stop, stop!_

He forced his body to relax and simply hold her, telling himself that even if the circumstances were different that they were nowhere near such a point in their relationship. He cared for Zoey on more than an intimate level. This seemed to calm the rush of blood that was surging to his nether regions. She shifted suddenly, turning her head to look over her shoulder at him with sleepy eyes.

"You okay?" she whispered.

Ellis offered her a sincere smile as he nodded. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She shifted to her back, her eyes closing. "I dunno, I woke up and you were just so stiff."

_Darlin', you have no idea._

"Weird dream is all," he reached up and pushed her hair from her face. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. When he lowered his head back into his arm he saw her looking at him with a strange kind of curiosity but said nothing. "You sleep alright?"

Allowing her eyes to close yet again, she shrugged and yawned. She arched her back suddenly, her legs stretching out to the other end of the couch. Her muscles quivered as they remained tensed and then with a rush of air, she let her back flop back onto the couch. "Mmhmm." As she settled, Ellis found his fingers toying with the hair that was resting against her neck and shoulder. He twisted the hair around his index finger, bringing himself a mild form of entertainment as Zoey relaxed beside him. "You know, you don't have to do this."

His finger stopped mid-twist. "Huh?"

She opened her eyes, looking uncertain as she watched him. "Ever since that whole thing with the Witch and the closet. I understand why you did it and you don't have to-"

"Understand why I did what?" He was at a loss and he instantly thanked his lucky stars that everyone was sleeping, otherwise this might have been a bit more awkward than it already was.

"Kiss me," she told him, her voice still a raspy whisper. "We were both going to die, I get it. But you don't need to keep doing this. I don't expect you to."

Ellis couldn't help but feel a bit hurt. He had thought that his intentions were quite clear but apparently, he had thought wrong. With a heavy silence hanging between the two of them, he studied her, watching the way her eyes shifted away from him, the way her body suddenly seemed so stiff and unmoving; like she was holding her breath.

"You think I'm doing this… No, darlin' no…" he leaned forward, his forehead resting against her temple. "It's not like that, at all. I _want _to do this." His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. When she looked up at him, the hand that had been resting on her hip slipped up the length of her torso and cupped her cheek, turning her face to look at him. "I'm not that type of man, Zo.."

It was her turn to study him, it seemed. She looked over his face, searching his eyes and still looking entirely disbelieving. "So you don't feel obligated to…?"

Ellis brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth. "What, you think that if I was stuck in some closet with Nick I woulda kissed him too?" She made a face, something akin to a grimace. He chuckled, kissing her lower lip. "It wasn't just 'cause of the situation, darlin', I…" Was it too soon to say this? Perhaps it was, but really any of them could die at any minute now. The witch could find them, something could burst through the window – pull them from the window, charge through the door. Too soon could very easily turn into not soon enough. Licking his lips he made sure to regain firm eye contact with her. "It was more than just some kiss to me, you hear?"

Zoey's breathing wavered – she looked shocked.

"It's nothing that needs to be addressed right now," he murmured, touching his forehead to hers. "You don't even have to feel the same way. Just know that this," he moved his hand to her waist again, giving her a light shake. "Is something that I want – zombie apocalypse be damned." There was a short amount of time, wherein Zoey merely studied him, eyes searching his own as if she was looking for a reason not to believe him. "I would love for this to be somewhere else," he added. "Maybe…" He grinned, recalling that day dream – that day dream that was still so fresh in his mind.

"Maybe a night at the beach with a bon fire, light breeze and big ol' moon, maybe snugglin' up on a couch and watching a movie." A playful yet devious smile emerged in the midst of the innocent words. "Maybe I would just be gettin' home from work and you're getting out of the shower." His nose grazed her jaw and he sighed. "Or maybe it's just this, me mutterin' nonsense and probably makin' a fool of myself." Another kiss, this one lingering.

She smiled against his lips, looking up at him with reddening cheeks before she turned her head away and Ellis was more than willing to take it as her acceptance.

xXxxX

"Okay, so, here's the plan!" Nick announced as the group gazed at the door. "We move all this shit out of the way, open the door… and we push Rochelle into the hallway and see if the witch attacks her."

"Oh hell no!" The woman groused, giving Nick a hard shove before crossing her arms. "I did that to help-"

"Don't worry, Ro, we ain't gonna let him shove you into the hallway," Ellis offered, sending Nick a disapproving glance. They had been brain storming since that morning, offering ideas and shooting them down just as soon as they were laid out onto the table. The overall situation was unfair and one sided – they were screwed without the right weapons. Zoey frowned, eying the door's structure for a few silent moments before she pointedly made her way towards the window. Using the heal of her palm she broke down the rigid remains of the glass that lined the lower half of the pane. Glancing back at her group she quickly leaned herself forward and over the edge, waist draped over the window to peer down at the floor below.

The glass was still intact, that much was obvi- "What the hell you doin'?" Coach's voice, at such a close proximity, made Zoey's entire body flinch and she sat up, eyes wide.

"I was looking to see what the room below us looks like."

"Looks like you were jumpin' out the window."

Zoey frowned at the large man, shaking her head. "No, I was thinking that, maybe, if we were to…" she made a small hand gesture. "I don't know, make a rope or something… We can get off of this floor and start from down there."

Coach looked thoughtful for a moment then he too leaned towards the window, peering down at the street below before glancing back at her. The way that his eyebrows quirked pleased Zoey, he looked thoughtful as if considering the plan.

"The glass isn't broken though," she offered.

"Just gotta get the proper swing at it," he said distantly, thoughtfully. "Hey y'all, we need to make a rope or somethin'," he told the three, who were still staring at the door. "We can drop down into the floor below."

"Is that safe?" Rochelle inquired, head tilting as she made her way towards the window as well. "I mean, you see that stuff in the movies and things go South real fast."

"It's worth a try," Coach claimed, pulling the bedspread off of the bed and tossing it at Zoey's feet. "Ellis, help me move the couch." Under the larger man's instruction, Ellis helped Coach push the couch towards the window, making Rochelle and Zoey scramble out of the way.

Nick sighed, watching as the girls began to shred the blanket into strips that were very quickly braided together. Zoey smiled inwardly, it was like a well oiled machine! It was impressive how fast everyone seemed to spring into motion (while Nick proceeded to look on). They weren't going to die, stranded in some hotel room – they were going to fight and move on.

xXxxx

The sound of static brought Francis from his bitter musings as he stood, locked in some conference room on the second floor. He had been in this room for quite some time and, really, it was just starting to piss him off. Upon leaving the conference room he had been brought face to jowls with a boomer – a female one. The girl ones seemed vindictive, often following him just to shower him in that disgusting green bile and retreating. The door had opened, the _thing _had grunted – _fuckin' thing needs to get a bra – _and Francis slammed the door. It had yet to show any signs of trying to break through, the occasional scratching being the only tip that it was still lingering in the hallway. He had spent uncounted time glaring at the door, waiting for the thing to break in but there was nothing…

Nothing but that static.

_Kkkkssssssssssssh_

Francis looked up from the door, trying to pin-point the source of the sound and there it was, a walkie talkie left abandoned on one of the table surfaces that filled the room, each of them covered in maps, bile bombs and pistols – yet he was hesitant to leave. A boomer with three other people was one thing, one-on-one was something different entirely. This chick-thing might not be tearing the door down but a horde would, so he took to waiting and hoping that the thing would lose interest.

"_Check. Check one."_ It was a male voice.

The curiosity was instantly replaced with urgency, his entire body lurching forward towards the walkie-talkie. If there was someone on the other end of the device, he wanted to be talking to it – he wanted to be devising a plan to get out. To get Louis and get the fuck out.

"_Audio, audio."_

"Hello! Hello?" Francis asked, pressing the button when he spoke and instantly letting up on the button to listen to more static. There was a moment where Francis didn't move, didn't breath, his eyes glued to the device that was clutched in his hand. "C'mon you fucker…"

_Kkksssssssh_

"_Well shit, hello!"_

Before more static filled the line, there was a burst of noise from the other end, someone speaking, Francis thought. It sounded like someone was talking in the background. Francis released the breath he had been holding and a wide smile broke his features. There was someone there, someone who could help…

"How many you got with you? I need some fuckin' help." His fingers released the button.

"_We got five but we ain't got any weapons."_

Francis groused, "Well I have weapons, come get me the fuck outta here!"

"_Ain't that easy, buddy."_

"I ain't your buddy you hillbilly son of a bitch!" And there went his temper and his desperation. "Look, I have someone here who has a broken leg. Do you understand? We are sitting ducks!"

"_Yeah? Well we were trapped in a – " _A voice cut in, it sounded close and irritated, no longer heavily laced with a southern accent.

"_This isn't a pissing contest, Ellis."_

Francis' eyes narrowed. That name… Where had he heard that name?

…

"_Wait, what are your names?"_

"_Holy shit Zoey, what does it matter?"_

"_Bite me, Francis."_

"_Well, little lady… I'm Coach, this is Rochelle, Nick and-"_

"_Ellis! My name is Ellis!"_

…

"_Zoey! Shit, wait… Let me get her!" _

"_Ellis! Come on!"_

"_Ellis!"_

"_Alright man, I gotta take her… We will take good care of her!"_

…

_Francis and Louis,_

_ Sorry about kidnapping your friend.  
I'm sure you would have done the same._

_ - Ellis_

That motherfucker! Francis' fingers clenched down onto the 'talk' button with a white-knuckle grip, irritation and giddy hope churning in his gut.

"Zoey?" He released the button and listened to the static, the seconds dragging on as he closed his eyes and hoped – no, he didn't pray. There was no point in praying anymore.

"_Francis?"_

"Zoey!" Francis pumped his fist, a large smile splitting his scarred features as he began to linger from the door. "Oh, shit, Zoey! You're alive! Look, we… I don't… Where are you?" The butterflies, the happiness, it was overwhelming.

"_We're in some hotel in Metarie, about eight miles outside of New Orleans. How about you? Are you guys doing okay?" _

"We're okay," Well, he was okay. He wasn't so sure about Louis. "We're in New Orleans now, in some Marriot hotel." This was good…ish.

Eight miles – that was nothing compared to the distance that they have trekked. If he went back to Louis, told the injured male about the situation, maybe he could meet them half way. The bad end was the fact that they didn't have any weapons – that wouldn't be getting them anywhere anytime soon. Trying to find a vehicle was almost a lost cause in itself and dangerous what with the alarm systems that some of them were equipped with.

"Alright, Zoe, me 'n' Louis will move a bit closer towards you – but you're going to have to come here. There's no way that I can leave him here, I have left him alone too long as it is." He released the button and took a breath, glancing towards the door. "You're gonna have to get here."

"_We don't have any guns, you stupid bitch! How the fuck are we going to get _anywhere _without weapons!"_

Francis glared at the object in his hand. He really didn't like that… that guy (what was his fuckin' name?).

"Fuck off, Colonel Sanders. I know for a fact that Zoey has one hell of an upper-cut – she'll save your ass. Zoe, you've told me a ton of times how your old man taught you self-defense, get yourself out of there. Get to another building and _make _something. You've played those games… Put some nails in a fuckin' bat or something!"

"_Aw, shit son," _Zoey laughed. "_I just got so turned on..."_

"Now get that sweet ass over here."

xXxxX

It had taken time.

It had taken hours for the group to navigate their way out of the hotel and down the road to the closest Dicks Sporting Goods. Their pace was slow and steady, they fought what infected that they could and avoided those that they could. Zoey ached, her fingers felt swollen and jammed, her ankle felt swollen and strained and the boys weren't fairing much better as they were taking the blunt of the infected, clearly trying to keep the two girls safe.

"I never thought," Coach took a deep, wheezing breath, "I'd be so happy to see… sporting goods…store."

"Or the word 'Dick'," Nick grumbled.

There was a small snicker from Ellis, who was favoring his left foot as he hobbled after the two men. "I bet they got water in there," he sighed longingly, taking a quick glance back towards the girls as the disabled electric doors were pried open. "And energy bars or that freeze dried stuff. Aw, shit, I'm hungry."

The inside of the store was quiet and dark, the absence of the glowing white eyes a welcoming factor in the otherwise eerie setting. Rochelle reached out and latched onto Zoey's arm, eyes wide as she looked around room. Zoey followed her gaze, trying to pick out human-shapes in the dark. Clothes, jackets – anything on a rack looked like a person.

"First thing's first, we need to find a flashlight or something. Shit's creeping me out."

"We should check 'round the checkout stands, probably find the lights you put on yer keychain at the least," Ellis commented as the group eased their way into the dark building. Zoey squinted as they neared the first register. She could easily pick out a number of sweets and chap sticks, typical goodies found at the register and Zoey sighed, feeling Rochelle's grasp on her arm tighten.

"I really don't like-"

"Hey, I found a lantern… thing!" Coach called as light filled the lane he stood in filled with light. Looking up, Zoey noticed that it was a cheap, battery operated lantern that would more than likely be used by a child during a backyard camping trip. "Now let's find some weapons, some food and some water."

Ellis lingered into the light, cradling four large bottles of water. "Does it have to be in that order exactly? I'm starvin'."

Coach grunted his agreement, producing two more kid-safe lanterns. Upon Zoey's approach he passed one off to her and with a quiet thank you, she found herself stalking to the back of the store where she hoped the fire arms were being kept. She would be a one-woman arsenal if that was what it took, she would pack pistols and rifles and machetes…

And with the condition of the store she was certain that they would be able to find anything that they needed. With the help of the small lantern she navigated her way through the empty store until she found a wall-rack of rifles, both scoped and non, pistols varying in size and make and beautiful boxes of ammo. Setting the light on the glass casing, Zoey began to pick out a variety of weapons. She set out a couple of scoped rifles after testing their weight, followed by shotguns and automatic rifles and pistols – everything she favored, she set out onto the glass casing. Immediately after, she loaded each weapon with the corresponding ammo, filling a number of other clips and magazines before she saw Nick emerging from the dark surrounding her.

"Well," he sighed. "Someone has been busy."

"Eight miles," Zoey murmured, finding different straps and holsters behind the counter and tossing them on top of the guns. "Louis is still down and Francis is alone – We are going to do this right." One of the holsters was wrapped securely around her thigh before she pushed a loaded .357 into the available space, securing the weapon with the buttoned strip of stiff fabric that went over the handle. Another holster was placed at her hip and a third went over her shoulders, allowing her to have quick and easy access to at least four pistols if things went sour.

"That's going to be a lot of weight," Nick commented.

Zoey looked up at him, hands blindly reaching for an automatic rifle. "I'm not done."

"What – we really that bad?" Nick asked, lifting one of the shotguns and peering down the sites. "What are you going to do? Hop a boat to wherever it is? Hm?"

She clicked her tongue, her fingers aching as she worked another bullet into the mag. "Got a better idea?" There was no immediate response, no cynical comment. "Look, the plan might have changed – but Louis is still down and Francis needs help. Nothing is saying that we will have to go our separate ways, I just want to find my friends."

"Are you just going to leave him?"

"I'm not leaving anyone," Zoey snapped. "Who says we can't, you know, join forces or whatever. That being said," she made a couple of gestures, pointing towards the weapons on the table. "Everyone, including Louis and Francis, are going to need some guns. And yes, I have every intention on being a one-woman arsenal."

Nick sighed heavily, pulling a shotgun from the offered selection. "Might want to hold off, we are taking a break."

All movement halted, fingers poised to push another bullet in the magazine. They wanted a break? A break – when they were so close to getting to New Orleans, so close to finding the people that they have been searching for. "But… We…"

"Don't get your undies in a bunch, sweetheart," Nick said distantly, his figure retreating from the light. "We need to take a break and Ro already told your bridge monkey friend what we were doing."

Zoey's entire body slumped forward and she scowled into the darkness before glancing at the weapons she had found. On top of the guns she should probably try and look for some kind of melee weapon, a baseball bat maybe. With nails come out of the end.

"Hey Zoey!" It was Coach's voice coming from the darkness, from somewhere across the store. "Come 'n' eat, baby doll!"

"Yeah, coming!" She called.

xXxx

"_Let me know what you guys are headed this way, wouldja? I still have to make it out of here and this bitch doesn't show any signs of leaving."_

"What do you mean?" Rochelle inquired, sitting cross legged in the offered lighting. She held the walkie-talkie in her hand, a machete draped over her lap. Beside her, knelt down to begin boiling water in a small pot on a hotplate that they had found. Beside him there was an assortment of freeze-dried food.

"_Boomer in the hallway. She won't leave."_

Ellis tilted his head, leaning back on his palms as he looked towards Rochelle. "Don't they usually, you know, break through the door or something?" He asked, head tilting. Turning, he saw Zoey make her approach, noting the mess of firearms that adorned her person. She looked a little upset and her body looked tense as she lowered down on to the floor a couple of feet away.

Coach emerged seconds later, holding a couple of boxes of energy bars and metal sporks that probably littered the entire store.

"We got enough water? Whoa, damn baby girl," he murmured, eyes catching Zoey's form. "Got any guns to share?"

Zoey looked up and gave a small but tired smile. "There are plenty back there, loaded and ready to go. We are going to have to find a bag though, Francis and Louis are going to be needing some help. Probably need to find a first aid kit or something too."

Ellis smiled, "Been busy back there."

"Little bit," she nodded.

Overall, it was good that she was being so meticulous about things, getting weapons loaded and ammunition ready, wanting bags to get things to her friends. However, it would make things a bit more hazardous, the extra weight hindering movements and making their progress slow – and this could lead to them trying to rush. Ellis reached out to open one of the freeze-dried food packets (selecting a chili-mac for himself) and setting them up so Nick could pour the water in whenever it was ready.

"Don't be gettin' too ahead of yourself," Coach advised. "You'll get reckless."

"Yeah, and then you're dead and that would make you worthless," Nick grunted, pivoting on his toes to pour water into one of the open pouches of food. "And that would suck," he gave Zoey a pointed look and went back to pouring more water into the pot so it could boil. Again, Ellis reached out, closing the top of the packet so the food could properly cook.

"_Fucking vampires."_

Grunting, Zoey leaned forward and reached for the walkie-talkie. "May I?"

"Go 'head girl," Rochelle said gently, passing the younger girl the device.

Leaning back into a seated position, Zoey brought it to her mouth, fingers clutching the button. "They're zombies, Francis."

"_I hear you kids are eating – you get your peanut butter you fatty?"_

Zoey smiled and Ellis' eyes narrowed. He had never favored joking in such a way (and when he tried his mother had made sure to tell him her personal thoughts with a wooden spoon) but he bit his tongue.

"Very funny, jerk."

"_You've been eating right? Bill would kick your ass if you haven't been eating."_

"Hey, I eat…"

"_More than just condiments? More than just peanut butter..?"_

"You're such a jerk. We're gonna _eat _now."

"_Alright, let me know when you head out… I will probably still be here."_

Nick snorted, pushing another full pouch of food into the circle. Ellis grabbed the pouch and scooted a bit closer to Zoey, passing her the pouch and a spork. Eyebrows furrowing, she slowly opened the pouch and peered at the steaming contents. She seemed distant ever since they had found the walkie-talkie, distant and detached – driven, sure. There was definitely more aggression when she was fighting but it was something that Ellis found that he almost disliked the change. It was useful, sure, but it wasn't Zoey to be so detached from a group. She was the cute one with the nerdy jokes, the apocalypse veteran who knew to take everything in stride and take pleasure in the little things…

"He'll be fine, darlin'," Ellis said gently, hoping to ease her worries. "We will find him and Louis and we'll all figure out what to do from there. Find some place safe."

Nick snickered, filling another pouch of food. "Like the Florida Keys."

"Shuddup, Nick," Zoey grumbled.

Coach cracked open a bottle of water, taking a large gulp before he leaned back on one of his hands. "We'll figure this out, Zoey," he said gently.

"We should find more girls," Rochelle muttered. "Or, you know, a dog or something."

"Or we can keep a zombie as a pet and name him Fido," Zoey quipped.

Ellis smiled; there she was. His witty, apocalypse girlfriend was slowly getting back into the swing of things, letting the tension drop and her mildly upbeat persona to shine through. He casually draped his arm over her shoulders, giving her a gentle and playful shake as he tossed her a smile.

"Should name him Timmy."

She instantly shook her head. "No, the crawlers are named Timmy."

Rochelle instantly went stiff, eyes widening from across their impromptu camp sight. "Crawlers?" she grabbed one of the offered sporks, looking worried and altogether quite stressed. "What is a crawler?"

Zoey shifted to the side, her shoulder leaning into Ellis' frame, the movement seeming subconscious instead of pointed or purposeful. "You know, a crawler! When you shoot their legs off and they keep crawling after you, yelling their angry anti-Semitic German crap, ya know? Those are Timmy."

There was a collective silence that held for several seconds before Coach finally spoke.

"… What?"

"Yeah, seriously," Nick grumbled. "The fuck did you just say?"

Zoey frowned, her head tilting. "Call of Duty?"

Ellis turned his head, looking at her inquisitively. Call of Duty? Timmy? Anti-Semitism?

Though he appreciated her odd jokes Ellis often found himself somewhat lost when she would make her video game or comic book references. On many levels, she reminded him of Keith and his devout comic-book nature and his odd, almost cult-like following of his favorite movies. It warmed him, knowing that Zoey and Keith would get along so well as there had been a handful of relationships that were truly doomed due to the fact that his girlfriend and his best friend quite simply didn't get along.

"I'm not followin', darlin'," Ellis admitted.

"Call of Duty! World at War? Zombie maps!" She was speaking with her hands now, fingers spread wide and arms moving in almost a shrugging gesture. "Come on! You had the zombie maps and if you shot the zombies in the legs, they would start to crawl around and we called them Timmy because he couldn't use his legs like Timmy from South Park!"

It finally clicked.

"_Oh!"_

Rochelle frowned, now holding a food packet in her hands, kneading at the package to mix the food and water together. "Still don't get it."

"Timmeh!" Ellis said, using his best South Park voice. Despite the fact that his voice still carried it's Southern drawl Zoey seemed pleased, her lips curling into a small smile as she glanced his way. She had yet to shake his arm from her person and he silently decided that she could make all of the inside jokes that she wanted if he got to sit so close to her, watch her smile at the memories.

"So," Nick said, finally filling the last food packet with boiling water before he sealed the package. "You didn't have very many boyfriends, did you?"

"No," Zoey said bluntly. "I can easily say that I didn't have very many boyfriends at all. The longest relationship was in my Freshman year of high school." Ellis pulled his arm from her shoulder and offered her one of the ready packages of food and an unopened water bottle. "Thanks. It lasted about a week and a half and the little creep was afraid to hold my hand in public, had the nerve to tell me that he loved me and then proceeded to ask me if I was going to be able to interact with him while I was making dinner for him after we were married."

Rochelle was laughing quietly, her spork now dipping into the package.

"How old was he?" She asked, taking a bite and chewing.

Ellis nodded in agreement, wanting to know the answer as well. From his own experiences, the L-word hadn't even thought of until late, late, late into his senior year of high school.

"God, freshman year," Zoey closed her eyes, trying to remember just how old she was. Ellis inwardly frowned, thinking back to freshman year – it seemed so long ago.

Nick snorted. "You had to be like twelve. We're getting ready to celebrate your sweet sixteen soon, aren't we?"

There was a bark of laughter Zoey. "Oh, age jokes! I haven't heard a good age joke in a while."

Coach shook his head, clearly fighting a smile. "Well, baby doll, I don't think you have to worry about any more of that." By the looks of things, Ellis noted, he was already over halfway through with his dinner.

"Things aren't looking good though, girl," Rochelle commented, eying her sporkful of MRE spaghetti cautiously. "I mean, so far, how many other girls have you seen? From my part of the woods, I have only seen other men. The boat drivers, the old wacko in the gun store – all of them men. Repopulating the world-wise, we might be in a little bit of trouble."

"Oh, God, right?" She sounded exasperated. "For the longest time I thought I was going to have to… y'know… with Francis. I mean, yeah, Louis is a sweetheart and all but really he just isn't my kind of guy. Francis isn't really either but between him and Bill and zombies…"

Nick made a face. "I would have picked the zombies."

There was collective laughter, and for a moment everything seemed normal…

xXxx

Ellis woke up to the sound of static. It was loud and somewhat deafening in the otherwise silent room and he decided that it must have been the broken silence that had woke him up. Shifting, he tightened his arm around Zoey's waist and buried his nose into her hair, feeling her shift and nuzzle into his chest. A small, sleepy smile broke through the sleepiness and he planted a gentle kiss to the top of her head. This was comfortable, so comfortable. Earlier, while the group was reminiscing (they had started with their chat about odd and horrible relationships and slowly shifted into embarrassing memories before ending with the collective and sleepy silence) she hadn't shied away from him, made no real comment when he had planted a kiss on her temple and pulled her close.

She didn't seem embarrassed and she certainly didn't seem to mind and no one seemed all that surprised. The only attention that the affectionate actions received was a pointed smile from Rochelle before she had gone on with her own story. All the while, Ellis had grinned like a fool, a love-struck and smitten fool but, honestly, he couldn't help it. Zoey was letting him be close, letting him touch her as she spoke and told her stories – it felt so natural, comfortable and normal.

Normal.

Christ, he missed _normal_.

But he would take what he could get, and a round of story-time that was severely lacking in any sort of zombie-talk had suited him just fine.

"_-Be alive!"_

He scrunched his nose, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to fall back to sleep.

"_Hey!"_

Zoey shifted against him, her hands tucking under her chin as she pressed her face into Ellis' neck. "Shuddup Fr'ncis," she grumbled.

"_Goddamnit! You had better not be fuckin' dead over there, do you understand me! Fuck, answer me! HEY!"_

There was a burst of sound as someone moved in the darkness, finally finding the walkie-talkie and fiddling with the buttons. For a moment, there was static, silence as if the button was being pushed, and then more static.

"Tell him to shuddup," Zoey ordered Ellis' neck, the movement of her lips against his skin making him shiver.

"Shut the fuck up!" Nick barked, then the walkie-talkie hit the ground with a loud clatter. "Should have shut the damn thing off."

"Shuddup, Suit."

"You shuddup."

"All y'all shuddup."

"_Goddammit, did you hear me!"_

Ellis sighed heavily. "Be quite, Francis," he murmured, though he wasn't holding the walkie-talkie, he actually had no idea where it was. There was another burst of noise, another round of static before Nick yelled into the walkie-talkie.

"What in the hell do you want!"

"_I said, Louis is _gone!"

xXxx

Aaaaand that ends this chapter!

Oh shazbot.

Okay, so, a couple of things…

I used a couple of personal things in this one…

Namely, the Call of Duty: World at War Timmy thing and Zoey's creepy freshman boyfriend. Yes, I had a boyfriend in high school that asked me if, after we were married, that I would interact with him while cooking him dinner…

You can't make that kind of crap up.

A little fluff, a little angst, a little actionless action…

Hopefully, depending on how things go, Francis will at least join the group in the next chapter as Louis is, clearly, gone…

Well bye!


	8. The Reunion

_So!_  
_For my 21st Birthday, my husband took me to New Orleans. We stayed in the French Quarter and did the whole Bourbon street thing along with the haunted tours…_

_And I figured I would try updating this._

_Someone also commented that the chapters were too long (I also got a few PM's saying the same thing) so I am going to try and trim things down a bit. Maybe a little less 20-page chapters, yeah?_

_Aaand this story is being rewritten. Not drastically, just going back and fixing a few hundred million things._

**XXXXXX**

"_What do you mean Louis is gone!?" _It was Zoey, and even though he could detect the tired undertone of her voice he could also hear just how worried and angry she was. "_How did you lose an entire person, Francis!?"_

Running a leather clad hand over his scarred skull, Francis released a slow, potentially calming breath but it was instantly broken when he took in the entire room. It had been clean when he had left, the pamphlets neatly stacked on the counter top, the end table closest to the couch had been upright as opposed to flipped over and he noticed blood spattered against the floor, a bloody hand print against the back of the otherwise immaculate couch.

That breath that had the potential to be calming suddenly hitched in his throat as he silently added up the possibilities. Something had come in and attacked him, someone came in and hurt him and dragged him off in order to eat him or maybe he had just left…

"Fuck," he whispered, a strange surge of adrenaline pumping through his body and making him shiver. He was alone now – really alone. Zoey was eight miles away, Louis was missing (possibly dead) and Bill was gone (actually dead) and he was alone, but he was armed and that in itself gave him a decent fighting chance. "There is blood in here, Zo."

"_Blood? Jesus, you left him and he was bleeding?"_

"No, dammit. His leg was still shit but we got in here in good shape. No blood, no ammo, no more injuries."

"_Do you think he was attacked?" _

"It looks like it," he murmured, lowering the walkie-talkie. His eyes dropped to the ground, studying the blood spatter and noting the fact that there were actually two trails that lead to the door. With his back still against the door he began to follow one of the trails of blood along the carpet. It went from the door, towards the counter space, around the back of the couch and then it pooled somewhat, as if the person stood in one space…

Following the remains of the spatter, Francis noted that every couple of steps the person had paused, a small cluster of crimson dots blotting the carpet before trailing on and blotting the space once again.

Like there was some kind of struggle, like the bastard was leaving with something or someone and-

A written message on the wall beside the door.

_Riverwalk_

"He was taken," he told the walkie-talkie, feeling a bubble of complete fury overtake his body. "He was fuckin' taken."

"_What do you mean taken? How do you know?"_

"Whoever it was left a damn message. They took him to the Riverwalk or… fuckin' whatever."

"_Francis you need to wait. Okay? We are getting out of here right now – we're going to find a car, okay?"_

His hand went over his head again, taking deep breaths as he moved and plopped down onto the couch. "Hurry." He told her, and that was all he could muster.

**xXxxx**

"Zoey, wait!" She was already running across the store, using a small flashlight to get back to the stash of guns. As she ran she yanked several different bags from the shelves she passed by, throwing them onto the counter top before she went about collecting the guns. The pistols were already back in the holsters at her hip and her thigh, another one already being pushed into the waist of her pants. Boxes of ammunition were shoved into a large red duffle bag. She put a variety of shotgun, rifle and pistol ammo, going so far as to throwing a special package of "zombie ammo" into the bag.

"Zoey!"

"Just grab a damn gun!" she shouted back, putting a semi-automatic rifle against her back. Sadly, there was nothing fully automatic in the store, otherwise Zoey would be packing a whole automatic rifle arsenal on her back. "And first aid kits!"

Coach emerged from the dark, grabbing one of the ready holsters that would go over his shoulders and drop along his sides. He fitted himself into one, grabbing two pistols and sliding them into place.

"Slow down, baby," Coach murmured, pulling a scoped rifle off of the counter. "You need to take things slow."

"We need to find a car!" She called. "One that doesn't come with an alarm system preferably!"

Rochelle emerged seconds later, dropping several first aid kits on top of the packages of ammo. Like Coach, she reached to grab a pistol but Zoey stopped her, pointing to a larger handgun as opposed to the smaller one she was reaching for.

"Ro, you're going to want to grab something heavier. That DB9 is really light and it's going to have more of a kick to it, you're going to have to use both hands and I have seen you use two pistols at once so I think something else would be better."

Rochelle looked somewhat puzzled, head tilting for a moment. "Lighter kicks more?"

Zoey nodded, sliding the bigger guns towards the woman. "More weight, less kick - usually. Take these."

"Since when?" Rochelle asked, jumping slightly when Zoey dropped an assortment of magazines in front of her. Nick emerged with several bottles of water and some cliff bars.

"Your boyfriend just hotwired a bronco," he stated easily as Zoey proceeded to load the bags with whatever she could. The guns, the ammo, the first aid kits, water, the snack bars and zipping them closed.

"Grab a gun," Zoey ordered Nick, gesturing to the few left out on the counter top before shouldering a bag of ammo and immediately feeling incredibly happy that they had a vehicle to get into. Reaching for another bag, she staggered for a moment and then waited for Coach, Nick, and Rochelle to gather what they could. Her nerves felt completely shot, she was on edge and _so _nervous. Nothing seemed to be going fast enough, they all seemed to be taking their time and that just made the anxiety that she was feeling that much worse.

"Everybody got everythin'?" Coach asked, tossing a bag over his shoulder and double-checking his own weapon. In that moment, everyone seemed to double check themselves, examine the surroundings that they had found themselves in and it was then that Zoey snapped.

"Jesus, can we go? Please can we go now? That way, let's go that way," she ushered, using large sweeping motions with her arms. "Go, go, go!"

"Slow it down, Zoe-"

"We don't have time to slow anything down. _Please_, can we just go?" Without waiting for an answer she was making her way towards the front of the building. There had been more than one occasion where her original team had ran into a few unsavory scenes. Men and women, feasting on the bodies of the deceased or the living and the fact that Louis was gone, on top of the fact that they were baiting Francis frightened Zoey to her core. Her stomach was twisted in an alarmingly tight knot and she felt close to puking up whatever food and water that was in her system.

And she did just that.

Dropping the bag of guns, Zoey stumbled forward and bailed into a neighboring aisle that featured a number of camping chairs. Dropping onto her hands and knees she allowed her body to expel the contents of her stomach. In an instant her skin felt clammy, moist and far too hot. She gasped for air as if her lungs had closed down and her eyes watered.

The image of Louis, tied down flashed in the back of her mind. Seeing him tied down, helpless as they feasted on him…

It was too much.

Far too much.

Her stomach lurched again and she dry heaved, a rough choking sound bursting from her throat as saliva dripped from her lips.

"_Oh, fuck."_

XXXXX

The drive felt like it took hours, several agonizingly slow hours and whenever Zoey wasn't paying attention to anything in particular, her mind went to Louis. Louis in blinding pain, being eaten limb by limb – him being alive when they did. Her empty stomach proceeded to churn and she sipped at a bottled water than Rochelle had passed her once they got into the truck. The woman would have made a good mother, Zoey decided. The soft hands brushing over her forehead and through her hair, the way she surveyed and watched in order to make sure that she was alright…

To a point, Rochelle was nearly a better mom than her own was.

The thought made her sad, her lips dropping into a pointed frown. She missed her mom, she missed her dad…

Daddy.

Zoey missed her _daddy_.

Christ, she missed Bill, too – Apocalypse-Papa, she had called him once.

She felt her lower lip tremble and she instantly turned to look out the window, noticing that they were driving down small one-way streets, passing ancient and creepy looking buildings.

"Ladies and gentleman," Ellis began. "If you look to your right you will see Bourbon Street and Madame Laveau's Voodoo shop."

Nick scoffed loudly in the passenger seat. "Shit, Ellis the tour guide."

"And, right there, is the hotel."

When Zoey's entire body jolted forward, grabbing her gun and dropping the water bottle onto the floor boards. Coach reached out and touched her shoulder, quietly telling her to calm down even while Zoey was opening the door and jumping out. There were a few shambling zombies in the area, some turning towards the car and a good number of them had followed the vehicle to its destination.

"Zoey, hold on!"

She was already closing the door behind her and taking the first shot. One shot, one zombie down on the ground, blood and other gore spilling from the wound in its face. As she took aim again, the rest of the crew piled out of the car. No one scolded her for jumping out early, no one said anything until after the zombies were taken care of – and it was done without hitch.

"She's gonna get us all killed," Nick commented in the following quiet, sliding more shells into his shotgun. Zoey waved him off, making her way towards the front door of the building, not caring about what may or may not be on the other side of the door.

"Baby girl, you need to slow down," Coach stated, trying to get between her and the door but she jogged past him, ignoring Ellis and Rochelle's cries for her to slow down. Nick simply followed though he was grumbling bitterly.

Pushing the door open, Zoey looked through the lobby, finding it empty aside from a few corpses that littered the ground.

"Darlin', take it slow. We don't know what's in-"

"Francis!" Zoey called out, raising her gun as she waited for something, anything to come charging. "_Francis!"_

Her heart and stomach dropped to the ground at the sound of the furious female scream that sounded from behind the desk. Zoey turned, eyes wide as they came into contact with the Witch.

**XXXX**

Francis had never felt a stronger reaction to the sound of his name. The voice sounded distant and panicked, feminine and shrill. Zoey's yell had forced his entire being into action. His exhausted body jolted from the couch and onto his feet, weapon at the ready as the fog in his mind lifted. His heart was suddenly pounding in his ears; he could feel it in his throat. The door separating him and Zoey was shoved open and he saw her – for the first time in days.

There was an inhuman shriek and Francis' world slowed, his gut flipping uncomfortably. As adrenalin spiked through his system, he had the time to assess the entire scenario.

Zoey was reloading her pistol, eyes on the witch. She had mastered the particular weapon to the point she could take it apart and put it back together with her eyes closed. There was a clear panic in her eyes. Beyond her, there was four others – the folks from the bridge.

The asshole in the suit was yelling something about Zoey being an idiot.

The woman was just now raising her weapon.

The large black man was stumped, eyes bulging.

And, finally, the hillbilly was making his way towards Zoey, reaching for her as he called her name.

Francis looked to the witch, watching as she sprinted at Zoey, claws extended, rotten teeth on display as she screamed. His proximity to Zoey was close, maybe a few feet ahead but still pretty close.

With a feral snarl of his own, Francis lifted his foot, a couple inches past waist high, and as the grey skinned woman passed him he kicked out. His steel toed boot collided with the side of the Witch's head, cutting off her angry screams and sending her to the ground. He took a step forward, lifted his foot again and slammed it down into her skull, causing her nose to cave in, her face to cave in.

"The fuck," Colonel Sanders breathed, eying Francis as he yanked his foot from the gore. "That was sick."

Francis didn't take the time to ponder the meaning behind the comment (Sick as in good? Sick as in, that's really nasty?) and moved to Zoey, pushing the hillbilly away from Zoey so he could get his arms around her. He pulled the girl into a tight embrace, his breath wavering and words hitching in his throat as he leaned into her. Zoey wrapped her arms around him, pressing his face to his chest.

They had only ever embraced two other times – total. He remembered both of them quite clearly, as they had been freak circumstanced, just like this one.

The first had been when she and him had been separated from Bill and Louis and he had saved her from an oncoming tank. The second was when Bill died.

"Fuck, Zoey…" He managed, closing his eyes tightly as he forced down the building emotions, the pent up stress. "I was so worried about you."

"Me too, big guy," she murmured, then sighed heavily. "Your vest really stinks."

"Your face."

"Your mom."

"Bitch."

"Asshole."

A strained laugh shook his body, easing the stress and calming his nerves. Withdrawing from the embrace he cupped the back of her skull, gripping her hair as he pulled back. She smiled up at him and he sighed heavily, tugging at her hair just for the hell of it.

"Do you know how worried I was?" he rumbled, leaning down so they were eye-level. "How many times I thought you were dead? How many times I wanted to fucking kill _you?" _He released Zoey from his grasp and whirled on Ellis, that stupid hillbilly and that _stupid _hat.

"Uh?" The hillbilly managed then took a step back as Francis jabbed his finger into the boy's chest.

"You stupid hillbilly mother fucker, I would _love_ to _kill_ you right now!"

Zoey scoffed, "Francis!"

Francis waved her off and proceeded to glower at Ellis and his stupid wide eyes – fuck he hated this kid. "You are real fuckin' lucky that she's alright, kid. Real fuckin' lucky."

Ellis was frowning, head tilted to the side. "Y'think I would've let her get hurt?"

"How was I s'posed to fuckin' know, man? The shit I've seen? Rape, cannibalism, rape _and _cannibalism, necrophilia shit – people are twisted these days and you just off and run off with one of mine?"

"We took care of her," Rochelle added gently, taking a short step forward. "Hell, she's taken care of us. Saved our lives more than we can count."

"Of course she did. She's a badass – I taught her well."

KFC sauntered forward, gun in both of his hands, looking at Francis with the utmost disinterest. He clicked his tongue, making a brief hand gesture before sighing, "This is all well and good – but we have to save your butt-buddy and I would like to get on with it so we can go along our merry little way."

There was no offered rebuttle, no name-calling match. Francis sighed heavily, his features suddenly somber as he gestured for them to follow him into the room he had been held up in. The group followed him and once everyone was in the room, the door closed, Francis gestured to the wall, towards the message.

"Whoever they are, they took him to the Riverwalk."

Ellis shifted his weight, crossing his arms. "That's pretty close by – it's a mall."

A moment of contemplative silence and Coach sighed heavily, "This definitely ain't good. Don't know their numbers, their fire power, what kind of people they are…"

"I'm not leaving him," Francis stated, anger beginning to surge through his limbs, heating his blood and making him almost see red. "No way in hell am I leaving him."

Coach shook his head, "Not saying we're gonna leave him. Sayin' we need to be careful. We're gonna need more than guns."

Francis smiled knowingly, reaching out and looping his arm around Zoey's shoulders. "Now you just leave that to us."

**XxxxXxx**

_What? I updated?_

_Whoa. How strange._

_Super short chapter is super short, and super terrible but I don't want to go too nuts. I am rewriting this story, no major changes just going through and changing details and explanations, expanding some things here and there, and possibly making things a little more bearable to read._

_I will come back and edit this chapter as well._


	9. The Plan

_I'm sorry._

_I've been seeing other fandoms. _

**XXX**

"That's your plan?"

"Yep."

"Francis, that is _retarded_."

"Fuck you! It's a great plan!"

"Guerrilla warfare isn't a plan with two people, Francis! It's a terrible idea! We have no idea how many people are in that mall, how many guns they have – if they have any. We don't know what sort of security is up, what is locked down and what isn't…"

"Bull shit! That's Guerrilla warfare though, ain't it? The smaller group ambushing and all that shit?"

"Well yeah, but two people? Against the mystery number with mystery weapons? Shit, that sounds _terrible!_"

Francis huffed, yanking the dry erase marker from Zoey's hands and dipping his head to focus on the white board that was resting between them. Initially, they had written out their plans on the surface, but those were quickly erased and replaced with images of penis and balls and other immature things that surfaced in Francis' sad little mind (that's not to say that Zoey didn't take part in the perverted doodling). Nick, Coach, Rochelle and Ellis had been pushed aside by Francis, who told them to sit tight, relax and take a breather while he and Zoey plotted their attack.

Sadly, Guerrilla warfare just happened to be the best idea they had come up with.

"Look, we make molotovs and put a few tablespoons of dish soap in there. It makes it thicker and it burns a bit longer. We get in and we set fire to a couple places. We keep them small and isolated, something to break up their ranks for a little bit. We find Louis and we get the fuck out of there."

Well, really, that wasn't too terrible.

"Okay, but how do we know where they are keeping Louis?"

"There has to be a roof-top exit, right? We get in through there, find the security room-"

"While we avoid getting spotted by whoever is _in _the security room."

Francis proceeded, lifting his middle finger, "and we get an idea of how many people are there. We pack the walkie talkies while you give your hillbilly the other. We tell them when we have found Louis and they come in through the front, guns blazing."

The white board was covered with words and arrows now. Molotov, linked itself with Dish Soap, which connected to Thicker/Burn Time and then that had an arrow towards Isolated Fire and then, finally Distraction.

**Molotov - Dish Soap - Thicker/Burn Time - Isolated Fire - Distraction (1)**

Zoey tapped her fingers against her lower lip, head tilting thoughtfully as she inspected the words.

"What's the 1 stand for?"

"I want two more distractions. Fire is only going to do us so much good."

Zoey leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she peered at the burly biker. She was impressed! Since when did he sit and think things through before acting on half-cocked ideas and plans that were doomed to end in complete failure and pain?

"Boomer bile," Ellis said from across the room, laying on his back as he played with a throw pillow. He tossed it up into the air and caught it.

"Huh?"

"On our way here we'd seen some Bile Bombs, 'member? Get a few of those and get a crowd of them going along the outside of the building – like up on the upstairs walkway. It's not something that they have to immediately deal with but it'll draw their attention. "

Francis looked thoughtful then wrote out the idea.

**Bile Bomb - Horde - Distraction (2 -?)**

They needed another, something that was structurally sound. There was no way they could risk trying to lure a Witch or a Tank into the area, it chanced a fatality on their already small number.

"You think we can find some kind of noise makers? Fireworks or something?" Zoey wondered, closing her eyes in concentration. She doubted a place like New Orleans would have fireworks at the ready for drunk occupants to play around with. Getting the Bile Bombs would be easy enough (Ellis had manage to make a couple before) and molotovs would be a cinch with so much alcohol and bottles around their location.

"Someone could shoot the windows or something," Francis mumbled. "Or maybe we find the shit to make a smoke bomb. Those are pretty easy t'make."

Zoey cocked her head, eyebrows raising as she leaned further into the chair.

"I'm afraid to ask why you would know how to make a smoke bomb."

"Zoe, I am surprised that you _don't_ know how to make a smoke bomb. Your dad taught you everything else, right" He lurched forward and wrote out **Smoke Bomb (3) **then gave her a large, knowing smile. "Looks like we get to go shopping."

XXX

Shopping consisted of three out of six of their group sneaking into the heart of bourbon street and breaking in to various shops and bars. The three of them, Ellis, Zoey and Francis, each had a backpack that they filled to the brim with whatever items they needed. One bag was filled with liquor, liquid soap and siphoned gasoline. Another bag was filled with sugar, baking soda and a variety of bags containing fertilizer and saltpeter. The final bag was several mason jars filled boomer bile – a project that Ellis had done without hesitation.

The shopping was done without hitch and they finished off their afternoon with a lovely round of home economics.

Featuring Molotov cocktail mixing and baking smoke bombs.

Yep. Totally normal.

"So, anyone else find that the bridge monkey making a smoke bomb is a little weird?"

"Eh," Rochelle grunted, shrugging her shoulders. "Zombies."

"Valid point."

Ellis shrugged his shoulders, having gone with the two on their shopping expedition he got to see how carefully they worked. They had openly reminisced about the man called Bill and about the things that he had taught them. The older man had told them the recipe to mustard gas – albeit vaguely, according to Francis – and a number of other gaseous weapons. The smoke bombs were something that Francis had known before meeting Bill, but they had learned basic paramedic skills, how to bandage wounds and set sprains and breaks. They learned how to disassemble, clean and reassemble their weapons and basic survival skills.

It was obvious that they missed the man and still looked to him as a mentor.

"W-W-J-D is a load of shit," Francis had groused, then tossed a grin towards Ellis. "Especially now. What would Bill do is a lot more helpful during this day and age. W-W-B-D."

Ellis didn't know about any of that, but Bill seemed like a smart enough man and Zoey sure missed him. As they talked about the old soldier Zoey's eyes took on a sadness that Ellis hadn't expected to see but she was smiling softly.

"I was so freaked when he had found me," She said on a heavy sigh, kicking at a fallen corpse as they made their way back to the hotel. "And he didn't even bat an eyelash, just told me to follow him."

He was going to be sure to ask about that story later, especially since he was the story-teller of their group, talking about Keith and all of the trouble that they would get into. Ellis decided that he wanted to hear Zoey and Francis' story, how they had all came together. It was something he would wait on, Francis seemed pretty focused on his, uh, cooking and Zoey was busy getting the molotovs ready.

The bile bombs were fresh and finished.

It had taken a bit of time to find a boomer, and she had been rather petrifying with most of her clothes torn and falling off, exposing bulging and pus filled flesh that was discolored with decay and maybe its own bile. Pulsing sores had covered her face, disfigured her body. In the end, after the lady-boomer projectile-puked into the mason jars, they killed her and moved on.

He was _so _glad that his shopping didn't get involved in the home-economics portion of the day.

So Ellis took the time to relax on the couch, right along with Rochelle. Nick was resting in an overstuffed chair – looking bored out of his mind – while Coach snoozed on the floor, arm tucked under his head.

"What do we do if the guy is dead?" Nick asked, managing to sound irritated. "This could be a total waste of time."

Ellis glanced towards Francis, busy with the construction of his smoke bombs. The biker's body froze and Ellis could practically _hear _his teeth clenching.

"How the fuck have you not killed him?"

Zoey chuckled, "Eh, he grows on ya."

"Yeah. Like cancer."

Zoey rolled her eyes, setting down the bottle in her hands and standing. Her arms stretched out above her head, her back arching and her eyes closing tightly as her body pushed out a yawn. When she crossed the room and took a seat beside Ellis he couldn't help but smile.

"Hey," Ellis murmured, his arm slipping around her shoulders.

Zoey leaned against him, closing her eyes. "Hi."

"Y'sleepy, darlin'?" His fingers brushed through the ends of her hair, pulling her towards him. When she merely sighed he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Go 'head and get a bit of shut eye. I will finish up." Zoey shook her head, her eyes on Francis as he worked in the tiny kitchen space.

"Do you think this is going to work?"

Ellis furrowed his eyebrows in thought, frowning to himself as he followed her gaze. Though Ellis was sure that the biker would never admit it his actions made it incredibly clear that he was worried; the idea of his friend missing scared him. Francis was resilient and didn't want to show just how upset he was – so he busied himself.

"It's worth a shot," Ellis murmured.

Honestly the entirety of the plan scared the crap out of him. Francis and Zoey infiltrating the mall with a group of unknown amounts of people was unsettling. The possibilities of what could happen – good and bad – were completely endless and he wished that Francis would be more open to the idea of him or Coach accompanying him. Francis had shut the idea down faster than Ellis could offer it.

"I don't like it, but I can't think of a better idea," Zoey closed her eyes tight, thumb and index finger rubbing at her eyelids.

The entire group hated the idea – Nick had even tried to shoot it down – but strolling up to, what could be, hostile territory with the possible hostiles wielding any number of weapons was worse than the plan that they were working on. And it was possible that Louis wasn't even alive; it could be a trap.

A trap that they were willingly walking into.

XXXX

They found the ladder that led the roof top and managed to lower it far enough for them to gain access – and that was the beginning of the mild fit of anxiety that caused Zoey's entire body to shake. In order to calm her body she took a deep breath and breathed out through her nose. The possibilities were too endless but she stepped up to the ladder and began to climb, knowing that it had to be done – that Louis would, and technically already had, come for her. A couple rungs up from the bottom she felt a hand touch her waist and she paused, seeing Ellis at her side.

"Can't someone else go?" He asked, addressing Francis, as he slowly eased Zoey back to the ground. "C'mon man, what if something happens? I can't let her do this."

Francis growled – actually _growled. _

"Alright Hillbilly, I told you once and I will tell you again. I'm not going in there with anyone else! I don't trust you, I don't fuckin' trust him, or him or her – I trust this one, right fuckin' here. She has saved my life more than once and the last time I saw you assholes was when you _took _her!"

"Yeah, we saved her fuckin' life!" Nick shouted, though he managed to sound bored. "We're sorry. If we could go back we would let her die just for you!"

"Fuck off, Sanders!" Francis's hands were clenching tightly, making the fingerless gloves strain audibly. Zoey moved forward then, making sure to stand in front of Francis, facing him as she gently pushed her hands to his chest.

"Francis – _hey!"_ She snapped her fingers just before his eyes then made a gesture to the ladder. "Climb, okay, I will be right behind you." He didn't move, simply glared straight past her as if she didn't exist. When someone behind her made a move, Francis cocked his neck, stepped forward and jarring Zoey backwards until she hauled all of her weight straight back at him, shoving his chest and making him step back. "_Francis!"_

With an irate sneer he turned and started up the ladder, Zoey relaxing slightly. She was glad that they were able to avoid any physical confrontation between Francis and the rest of the group and she gave them a gentle apologetic smile, telling them that she was sorry before turning to follow Francis up the ladder.

"Zoey, girl you don't have to follow him."

She glanced back at Rochelle, seeing the worry and the fear. It was the same look that Coach and Ellis were offering, a wide eyed sort of shock with confusion creased eyebrows. Nick was staring out into the street, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his lips moving silently as he shook his head.

"Louis came after me. The least I can do is go after him." She gripped the ladder and started up after Francis, slowing enough to offer them her best smile. "If it starts going downhill get out of here – and thank you. So much… For everything." Zoey couldn't prevent her eyes from lingering towards Ellis and she couldn't help but wonder if it was the last time she would ever see him again. Without another word she focused on the ladder, on the cold rungs under her palms and the heaviness of the weapons and molotovs her back.

"Zoey." She glanced back, surprised to find that it was Nick who called her. He didn't look as upset as the others did, though he did look irritated though there was a softness in his face. Nick held up the walkie-talkie, shaking it so the antennae wiggled. "Channel 2."

"Right."

She resumed the climb.

When Francis reached the top he turned to glance down at her, urging her on before vanishing from view. She felt that it was a good sign that there wasn't any zombies on the roof when he didn't scream or yell or shoot anything. It was a good sign; it had been one of the negative possibilities that had been rolling around Zoey's mind.

Get to the roof – zombies there. Get ambushed by smoker/hunter/tank/witch. Die miserably. End.

Nope, they managed to get to the roof and now it was step two. Infiltrating the building was going to offer any number of horrible endings.

Get spotted – die.

Discover Louis dead – die.

So-called isolated fires turn out to be not-so isolated – die.

Trip and fall down a flight of stairs – die.

_I need to learn how to be more of an optimist,_ she thought bitterly, watching as Francis procured a can of Dust-off from his bag. He inserted the red spray straw, turned the bottle upside down and angled it against the keyhole of the door before pushing the spray-nozzle in. From her space several paces behind him, she could see the frost on the canister, could see the keyhole lined with it.

"Another trick from the old days?" All Zoey wanted was a little banter, something quick and witty before they charged towards their deaths and Francis didn't disappoint.

"Zoey, come on! You've seen Fight Club."

That she had.

_I am Jack's cold sweat. _

He reached into his pack against, procuring a pick of sorts – a chisel- and pushed it up against the lock. With the heel of his hand he slammed the chisel home. With a twist of the handle the door creaked open, the chisel abandoned in the door handle as he lifted his weapon and glanced back towards her. There was a moment where they simply looked at each other, features grim. Lowering his gun, Francis suddenly stepped forward, his hand cradling the back of her head as he pulled her into a tight embrace.

Zoey was partially relieved to know that the big man was shaking just as much as she was. Pressing her forehead to his chest she wrapped an arm around him and took a breath. She wondered if she should take a moment to see if she had to throw up again, the knots in her stomach making her almost wheeze as she fought for air. Her anxiety was at an all-time high, her heart pumping so fast in her ears and she couldn't fight the trembling of her lower lip.

"Ready to go?"

_I am Jack's raging bile duct. _

"Sure."

As he broke the embrace Francis reached out and grabbed the walkie from her waist, pushing the button and raising it to his mouth rumbling, "Headed in. Radios silence." Again he reached out, clipping the walkie back against her waist and turned, shotgun poised in both hands as he headed inside. Zoey slid her AR from her shoulder, relieved to feel some of the weight had lifted from her back as she took a step forward, following Francis into the stairwell. Ten steps down and there was a small map that listed the exits and some of the major stores.

"Security room," Francis grunted, tapping the map with the barrel of his gun. "Should be down the stairs and one-two-three doors down." Zoey eyed the map over his shoulder, wondering what was in the two room that lead up to the security room. Probably employee break rooms, meeting rooms or storage spaces.

There was probably people in there.

_I am Jack's vehement uncertainty. _

With quiet steps and an incredibly well practiced stride and familiar formation the two made their way down the stairs and into enemy territory.

**XXXX**

_So, that's it for meow (now). Again, I want to keep these short so they don't take quite so long to write out – even though I think this took quite a while to produce anyway. Don't judge – I have been seeing other fandoms. Too many fandoms. _


End file.
